TH:E REVOLUTIONARY SERVICES OF 

JOHN GREENWOOD 



^H|^^ji;r"'"^* 



LIBRARY OF CONGRESS 



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Book_Ji5L[__ 
Copyright ^^? 

CORSa«HT DEPOSIT. 



EDITION LIMITED TO ONE HUNDRED 
COPIES, OF WHICH THIS IS 

NUMBER 



THE REVOLUTIONARY 
SERVICES OF 

JOHN GREENWOOD 

OF BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
I775-I783 



THE REVOLUTIONARY 
SERVICES OF 

JOHN GREENWOOD 

It 
OF BOSTON AND NEW YORK 

1775-1783 
Sdiied from the Original (t^KCanuscript 



WITH NOTES BY HIS GRANDSON 

ISAAC J. GREENV^OOD 




NEW YORK 

1922 






Copyright, 1922, by 
Joseph R. Greenwood 



©CI.A681568 ^ 



'KO / 



7 



NOTE 

This record of the Revolutionary services of John Green- 
wood, of w^hich his grandson, Isaac John Greenw^ood, is 
the edi<:or and annotator, was ready for the press at the 
time of the latter's death. Publication has been delayed, 
first by the production of another book giving the Revolu- 
tionary record of Captain John Manley, of v/hich Mr. 
Greenwood was the author, and later by the entry of the 
United States into the World War, which directed all 
energies to matters of immediate concern. This limited 
edition is now published in accordance with the editor's 
wishes, and it is peculiarly fitting that this simple record 
of a gentleman's services in America's first war should 
appear just after the country has emerged victorious from 
the greatest war the world has ever known. 

J. R. G. 



CONTENTS 



PAGE 



Introduction xv 

Chapter I 

His youth ; enlistment in Captain Theodore T. 
Bliss's (Boston) company as a fifer; company 
joined to Colonel J. Patterson's Massachusetts 
regiment; battle of Bunker Hill; his mother 
permitted to return to Boston 3 

Chapter H 

Siege and evacuation of Boston; regiment ordered 
TO Canada; part taken prisoners at the Cedars; 
General Arnold signs a cartel and gives host- 
ages TO the enemy 20 

Chapter HI 

Retreat from Canada to Ticonderoga; regiment 
JOINS General Washington in New Jersey; battle 
OF Trenton ; Greenwood leaves the army 34 

Chapter IV 

Sails with Captain Manley in the Cumberland; 
A prisoner in the Barbadoes; release and return 
home 48 

Chapter V 

Sails with Captain D. Porter in the Tartar; many 
prizes taken; vessel sinks at Port-au-Prince; 

RETURNS IN THE GENERAL LINCOLN, CaPTAIN J. 

Carnes; is captured and taken to New York; 

ELUDES imprisonment AND AGAIN REACHES BoSTON . . 63 



CONTENTS— Continued 

PAGE 

Chapter VI 

Again sails with Captain Porter, on the Aurora, 
AND later on the Race H orse, Captain N. 
Thayer; carries a prize brig into Tobago; buys 
A schooner, trades on the Chesapeake, and is 
TAKEN by Joe Walen's galley Revenge; recovers 
his schooner and reaches Baltimore with the 
prize-crew 72 

Chapter VII 

Makes two voyages to Saint Eustatius in the 
Baltimore armed schooner Resolution ; on 
second trip, when captain, is taken by the frigate 
Santa Margaretta, prisoner the fourth time at 
Kingston, Jamaica ; hostilities ceasing, he reaches 
New York on an English cutter and thence re- 
turns home 84 



ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES 

The North Writing School, Boston, and 
master, John Tileston 91 

William H. Montague, of Boston ; a talk in 
1847 with Dr. W. p. Greenwood and Mr. 
Isaac Cazneau 92 

Samuel Maverick; a victim of the Boston 
Massacre 93 

Captain Martin Gay of the Ancient and 
Honorable Artillery, and of the Boston 
Artillery Company 93 

Lieutenant John Greenwood of Falmouth 
( NOW Portland) , Maine 94 

The attack on Falmouth, Maine, by the 
Canso 95 

Corporal Hardy Pierce, of Captain T. T. Bliss's 
company; afterward lieutenant of Captain 
E. Stevens's artillery company 96 

Rev. Winwood Serjeant, of Christ Church, 
Cambridge, Massachusetts, afterward of 
Bristol, England 96 



CONTENTS— Continued 

PAGE 

9 Elizabeth (Clarke) Hale, of Beverly, widow 

OF Colonel Robert Hale 97 

ID Mary (Fans) Greenwood, of Boston (with 
portrait); her erother-in-law. Colonel 
Thomas Walker, of Montreal and Boston . . 97 

11 General Ward's reserve forces, June 17, 1775, 

TIME of the Bunker Hill fight 98 

12 Colonel John Patterson, of Lenox, Massachu- 

setts 99 

13 Captain Theodore Thomas Bliss, of Boston. . . 100 

14 Position of Patterson's regiment after the 

battle, etc 105 

15 Isaac Greenwood, of Boston; extract from his 

"Revolutionary Memoir" 106 

16 Lieutenant-Colonel George Clark's (of the 

43D Regiment of Foot) foraging party on 
Lechmere's Point, and its repulse 112 

17 Sniping with powder from the British shells. . 113 

18 Draft from Patterson's regiment for Colonel 

Arnold's expedition 113 

19 Houses left in Charlestown fired by the 

Americans 114 

20 Troops sent to New York; regiments ordered 

to Canada 115 

21 Change of Command in Canada 116 

22 Americans fall into an ambuscade planned by 

Captain George Forster and Brant 118 

23 Colonel Henry Sherburne, of Newport, Rhode 

Island, former major of Colonel Patterson's 
(Massachusetts) regiment 120 

24 Arnold's retreat from Montreal 124 

25 Regiments ordered to join Washington 125 

26 Battle of Trenton 125 

27 Captain John Manley's flag on the Cumber- 

land privateer 126 

28 The Cumberland captured by the Pomona 

frigate 127 

29 Thomas Pratt, of Chelsea, Massachusetts, a 

survivor of the Cumberland, 181 i 128 

30 Favorite songs of John Greenwood 128 

31 Captain David Porter, of Boston, privateers- 

man, father of Commander D. Porter, U.S.N. 130 

32 Prizes of Captain D. Porter 130 



C^i] 



CONTENTS— Co«/i««^^ 

PAGE 

33 Captain John (or Jonathan) Carnes, of Salem, 

privateersman i3i 

34 David Sproat, commissary for naval prisoners 

IN New York 132 

35 Edward Watkeys, soap and candle maker, New 

York 132 

36 Captain Nathaniel Thayer, of the Race 

Horse, privateer 133 

37 Movements of Cornwallis and Washington in 

Virginia 133 

sS Joseph Whayland, Jr., a British privateersman 
ON THE Chesapeake; Lord Dunmore's former 
pilot 133 

39 Armed schooner Resolution, former tender 

of the Maryland state ship Defence, Cap- 
tain James Nicholson 137 

40 British frigate Santa Margaretta, Captain 

E. Salter 138 

41 Henry Nicholls, captain of the English cutter 

Barracouta, fourteen guns; afterward com- 
manded THE Royal Sovereign, no guns 138 

42 Later voyages and events in life of John 

Greenwood 139 

Appendix A 

Colonel John Patterson's Massachusetts regi- 
ment; its field, staff^ and commissioned officers, 
1775 and 1776 142 

Appendix B 

Colonel Thomas Walker, of Montreal and 
Boston; his children and grandchildren 151 



C''"] 



ILLUSTRATIONS 

John Greenwood, about 1795, after portrait by William 

Lovett Frontispiece 

Facing page 

House of Lieutenant John Greenwood on Middle Street, 
Falmouth (Portland), Maine, 1 770-1856 6 

Facsimile from the "Revolutionary Memoir" 50 

Mrs. Mary (Fans) Greenwood, of Boston, mother of 
John, after portrait by William Lovett 97 

No. 199 Water Street, northeast corner of Wall Street, 
where John Greenwood first lived in New York, in 1873. 139 

Colonel Thomas Walker's house on Notre Dame Street, 
Montreal, 1720- 1890, where the Congressional Com- 
missioners lived 151 



INTRODUCTION 

The following record of events, written by John 
Greenwood during the year 1809, at such leisure mo- 
ments as the arduous duties of a professional life per- 
mitted, presents In plain and simple style, but bright 
and clear as when first Impressed upon the brain of 
youth, the varied scenes which he had beheld, and the 
hardships which he had encountered, in the service of 
his country throughout the War of the Revolution. 
Twenty-five to thirty-five years had passed since their 
occurrence, yet though in his statements he depended 
wholly upon memory, there is scarce an Incident re- 
lated which the annotator. In the course of an exten- 
sive historical reading, has not found corroborated. 
Precise dates alone appear to have been forgotten, 
and these, so far as possible, are now supplied. If 
the notes introduced add but little to the text. It Is 
hoped that they may prove of some value to the student 
of history. 

As a voucher for the truth of whatever pertains to 
Colonel Patterson's regiment, there was formerly 
attached to the original manuscript an autograph letter 
of Major Henry Sherburne, but repeated search among 
family papers has failed to bring the document to light. 
All we know about it is from a penciled memorandum 
on the cover by John Greenwood himself, which reads 
as follows; "Col. Sherburne, who wrote the introduc- 
tory letter, was Treasurer of the State of Rhode Island; 
he Is now living, Sept., 18 10." 



Much of stirring adventure was undoubtedly left 
unrecounted, and his son, Dr. I. J. Greenwood, often 
expressed regret that he had not foregone the pleasures 
of youth a little and, acting as amanuensis, made record 
from time to time of the abundant flow of humor and 
anecdote with which his father was wont to amuse his 
friends and children. 

In the manuscript a period of two entire years, 1777 
and 1778, is passed over inadvertently, without a word. 
It would appear, however, that about the year 1777 
Greenwood was engaged in the codfisheries off the 
coast, for he would relate how that, being a green 
hand and employed in stowing the fish, he was advised 
to pour warm tar in his boots to protect his feet from 
the brine, and that the boots had to be worn until split 
off on his arrival home. We know also from the 
Massachusetts Revolutionary Rolls^ that he was on 
a three months' service, from February 13, 1778, as 
fifer in the company of Captain John Hinckley's Boston 
Light Infantry, Lieutenant-Colonel Andrew Symmes's 
Detachment of Guards, on duty in the town under 
Major-General William Heath at a period when the 
forces of Burgoyne's army were encamped, as prisoners, 
in the vicinity. 

Many opportunities were enjoyed also by Dr. Green- 
wood of meeting persons who, having known his father 
in earlier years, could furnish him with amusing anec- 
dotes in connection with his father's life. A pleas- 
ing incident, related in October, 1823, by an old lady 
whose name has not been preserved, seems to show 
that Greenwood was again called out on service during 
the year 1778, when the American army was forming 
"a cordon about Manhattan Island, from Danbury in 
Connecticut to Elizabethtown in New Jersey." Gen- 
eral Washington had crossed with his forces to the 
easterly side of the Hudson River, and about July 

1 Vol. XX, p. i. 

I XVI 2 



20 his headquarters was established at White Plains. 
The Independent Company of Colonel Hitchborn and 
the Light Infantry Company of Captain Hinckley set 
out from Boston on Friday, August 7, for "headquar- 
ters." Unfortunately the i^oston correspondent of the 
Pennsylvania Packet of August 25 does not indicate 
whether he refers to White Plains, New York, or 
Tiverton, Rhode Island. 

"Sunt delicta tamen, quibus ignovisse velimus," 

I give the story as I find it. 

The company to which Greenwood belonged was 
encamped near White Plains upon the grounds of a 
wealthy Englishman, a neutral who resided in the 
neighborhood. This gentleman on one occasion, while 
out driving with his daughter (who tells the story), 
saw our young fifer sick and suffering from fever and 
ague, and brought him to his own house, where through 
kindness and woman's care he soon recovered. The 
good-natured boy, always cheerful and willing to lend 
a hand about the premises, soon won the regard of 
every member of the family; the eldest son would take 
him out for a drive in fine weather, and the old lady 
of the house never failed to remember him when mak- 
ing up a batch of pies. 

About this time a band of Skinners, anxious for 
plunder, made up their minds to burn and sack the 
place, on the plea that its occupant, though professedly 
a neutral, was virtually attached to the loyalist cause. 
The house was accordingly surrounded and its inmates 
called upon to surrender. The captain of the neighbor- 
ing militia company, informed of this proceeding but 
aware of the old gentleman's neutrality, was undecided 
how to act, and determined to leave it altogether to 
his men. He therefore paraded them and ordered all 
in favor of defending the premises to raise their hats 
upon their muskets, and about half immediately re- 



sponded to the appeal. The rest remaining irresolute, 
little John the fifer, together with the drummer of the 
company, was unremitting in his endeavors to per- 
suade them, and soon, every man feeling convinced 
of his duty, the marauders were driven off. 

While in the marine service and a prisoner, Green- 
wood received a severe scald, the marks of which he 
bore through life on one of his limbs. He said a 
person named Mumford, carrying a vessel of soup 
one day, and not observing him lying at length upon 
the ground, had stumbled over his body and deluged 
him with the hot and greasy liquid. This story was 
confirmed in July, 1837, by a gentleman named Mount- 
fort, who said the party above alluded to was his 
own father; doubtless Joseph Mountfort,^ of Boston, 
who had served under Commodore John Manley. 

Again, while in the West Indies, the precise time 
and locality not given, Mr. Greenwood on one oc- 
casion saw an aged negro fishing from the end of a 
wharf who professed to have been a cabin-boy to the 
notorious pirate John Teach, or "Black Beard," who 
was captured and killed in November, 17 17. Michael 
Scott, in his "Tom Cringle's Log," mentions this char- 
acter as still living in 18 12, at New Providence, aged 
about 1 10 years. 

The earliest incident connected with John Green- 
wood's life is that, when quite young, he was taken 
out one day for a walk, escorted by a negro boy be- 
longing to the family; when, attracted by the music 
and brilliant show of some passing soldiers, they fol- 
lowed along until the tired child was told to wait awhile 
and rest in a neighboring shop. Oblivious as to where 
he had left his charge, the negro finally returned home 
empty-handed, and Johnny had to be recovered by the 
aid of the town-crier. 

2"N. E. Hist. Geneal. Reg.," Vol. XL, p. 116. Born February 
3, 1750. 



This incident evidently refers to the landing, on 
Saturday, October i, 1768, of some regular troops,^ 
"the Hancock Regiments," as the people called them, 
which marched from Long Wharf to the common "with 
muskets charged, bayonets fixed, colours flying, drums 
beating, some of the drummers being negroes, and 
fifes playing."* As late as 1770 Bailey's English Dic- 
tionary gives the word "fife or fififaro, Ital.," as a pipe 
or wind-instrument, "used by the Germans, with a 
drum, in the army." Grose, however, in his "Military 
Antiquities," 1786, says that fifes were revived in the 
English army about 1745 by the Duke of Cumberland, 
who first "introduced them into the Guards." They 
were a novelty, evidently, to the Bostonians, and in 
March, 1769, an announcement can be read in the daily 
papers of a musical entertainment in the Concert Hall 
on Queen Street, for the benefit of the fife-major of 
the 29th Regiment. We may depend upon it that 
the "Yankee Doodle Song" of Surgeon Shuckburgh 
was much played by the British fifers. It was stir- 
ring music and had its effect, a very lasting one, upon 
little John, who, with indefatigable zeal and persever- 
ance, as we learn from the memoir, was soon play- 
ing upon a fife of his own, with a militia company of 
his fellow-townsmen, commanded by Captain Martin 
Gay, marching at his heels. 

In the winter of 182 1-2 John W. Greenwood, then 
a pupil of Phillips Academy, Andover, was fasten- 
ing his skates in the cabin of an old gray-headed negro 
at the edge of a frozen pond, when, glancing up, he 
observed a framed copy of his family arms over 
the chimneypiece, which, said old ebony, had belonged 
to his master, Mr. Greenwood, of Boston. Quite likely 
he was the same house-servant who had taken such 

^ The 14th, 29th, a detachment of the 59th, and a company of 
the Artillery Train with two cannons. 

* Gentleman's Magazine, 1768, pp. 511 and 512. 



indifferent care of the boy's father fifty years pre- 
vious. 

No relic in connection with his services, over which 
the stirring events which marked the Revolution might 
have cast a halo, has come down to the present gen- 
eration save the blade of the sword which he took, 
as he relates, from the body of a Hessian artillery- 
man at Trenton, and a manuscript music-book upon 
which he set great store as having been given him by 
an English fifer. The tunes are all English, but the 
water-mark^ of the paper being foreign, I am led 
to suppose this also is a memento of the battle of 
Trenton. Greenwood's regiment was appointed to 
guard the Hessian prisoners across the river, and 
among them was their band of nine musicians, who 
participated next year in the celebration of July 4 
at Philadelphia. The fife which had cheered "the 
15th" onward through many a weary march was 
thoughtlessly given away*' by Dr. I. J. Greenwood 
about 1 830, and has long since, we may presume, passed 
into oblivion. 

A few words relative to the parentage of John Green- 
wood may not be amiss. His father, Isaac Greenwood, 
of Boston, resided previously and for some time subse- 
quent to the war on the east side of Salem Street, the 
garden of his house adjoining the Second Episcopal, or 
Christ, Church. Here he carried on the business of 
ivory-turning and, as an adjunct of the same, the pro- 
fession of dentistry, much after the manner of his friend 
Paul Revere, the goldsmith,^ who was located at the 

^ Within a circular band, surmounted by a crown, and inscribed 
"Pro Patria Ejusque Libertate"; standing erect on a low square 
pedestal, bearing the word "Vryheit," a crowned lion carrying 
over his left shoulder a long staff surmounted by a liberty-cap. 

•^ To his agent, Mr. William K. Newton. 

^ They both "learnt the method from Mr. John Baker," a 
London surgeon dentist who visited Boston and New York in 
1768. 



head of Clarke's Wharf. To the above occupations was 
added the manufacture of "kitisols, umbrelloes," and 
mathematical instruments, and he is said to have con- 
structed the first electrical machine made for Franklin 
in Boston. His ingenuity in the arrangement of scien- 
tific apparatus was probably inherited from his father, 
of the same name, who had filled the first HoUisian pro- 
fessorship of mathematics and natural philosophy in 
Harvard College, Cambridge. Professor Isaac Green- 
wood was the son of Samuel and Elizabeth (Bronsdon) 
Greenwood, and the grandson of Nathaniel, a young 
shipwright who came to Boston about 1654. The lat- 
ter was the eldest child of Miles Greenwood, worsted 
weaver of Norwich, England, and, according to family 
tradition, a lieutenant and preacher under Oliver Crom- 
well. Miles's father, also named Miles, was married 
in 1599, in the church of St. Peter's of Mancroft, to 
Ann Scath, of Barnham Brome. 

John Greenwood, after the war, settled in New York, 
and there died November 16, 18 19, in his sixtieth year. 
A few days after this event a hale, hearty old gentle- 
man called at the family residence. No. 13 Park Row, 
having come, he said, to once more grasp the hand of 
his old comrade and companion-in-arms before he left 
this world; he had been the drum major^ of the 15th 
Massachusetts Regiment. 

One who had evidently known John Greenwood per- 
sonally writes : "He was a venerable man of great orig- 
inality and shrewdness of mind on all subjects, a great 

^ This was probably Jonathan Kinney, of Boston, who enlisted 
May 3, 1775, as the drummer of Captain Theo. T. Bliss's com- 
pany. He served from May 8 to July 8, 1777, as a matross of 
Captain Jonathan Stoddort's company, Colonel Th. Craft's ar- 
tillery regiment, and as corporal, February 3 to May 2, 1779, 
with the Guards at and about Boston, under Major-General 
Gates, in Captain Caleb Champney's company. Greenwood 
alludes to him under date of January 8, 1776. 



reader and deep thinker, generous and chivalrous in dis- 
position, of ready wit and full of the anecdote and lore 
of the past. In his profession his expert and adroit 
workmanship, bold ingenuity and resources under all 
difficulties, acquired him a reputation that left him with- 



out a competitor."" 



I. J. G. 



^ "Wealth and Pedigree of the Citizens of New York," 1842. 
The portraits of John Greenwood and his mother, which are 
introduced, are after originals painted by William Lovett, of Bos- 
ton, about 1790. 



C x^» 1 



THE REVOLUTIONARY 
SERVICES OF 

JOHN GREENWOOD 

OF BOSTON AND NEW YORK 
1775-1783 



Written from memory in New York, 
February 14, 1809, by a person who 
was in the Revolutionary War be- 
tween Great Britain and America; re- 
lating naught but facts, so strongly 
imprinted upon the mind as never 
to be forgotten. 



CHAPTER I 

His youth ; enlistment in Captain Theodore T. 
Bliss's (Boston) company as a fifer; company 
joined to Colonel J. Patterson's Massa- 
chusetts regiment; battle of Bunker Hill; 
his mother permitted to return to Boston 

I WAS born in Boston, America, May 17, in the 
year 1760, and educated in the North School (i) 
until thirteen years of age; but as children were 
not at that time taught what is called grammar, or 
even correct spelling, it must not be expected to find 
them in this relation. All that we learned was ac- 
quired by the mere dint of having it thumped in, for 
the two masters, who had to overlook and manage 
some 300 or 400 boys, could pay little attention to us 
except so far as flogging went, which right was rather 
freely indulged in. 

While I was at school the troubles commenced, and 
I recollect very well of hearing the superstitious ac- 
counts which were circulated around: people were cer- 
tain a war was about to take place, for a great blazing 
comet had appeared and armies of soldiery had been 
seen fighting in the clouds overhead; and it was said 
that the day of judgment was at hand, when the 
moon would turn into blood and the world be set on 
fire. These dismal stories became so often repeated 
that the boys thought nothing of them, considering 

C33 



that such events must come in the course of nature. 
For my part, all I wished was that a church which 
stood by the side of my father's garden (2) would 
fall on me at the time these terrible things happened, 
and crush me to death at once, so as to be out of pain 
quick. 

It must not be expected that I can give day or date 
in my relation, as I cannot remember them. 

I remember what is called the "Boston Massacre," 
when the British troops fired upon the inhabitants 
and killed seven^ of them, one of whom was my father's 
apprentice, a lad eighteen years of age, named Samuel 
Maverick (3). I was his bedfellow, and after his 
death I used to go to bed in the dark on purpose to 
see his spirit, for I was so fond of him and he of me 
that I was sure it would not hurt me. The people of 
New England at that time pretty generally believed 
in hobgoblins and spirits, that is the children at least 
did. 

About this period I commenced learning to play 
upon the fife, and, trifling as it may seem to mention 
the circumstance, it was, I believe, the sole cause of 
my travels and disasters. I was so fond of hearing the 
fife and drum played by the British that somehow or 
other I got possession of an old split fife, and having 
made it sound by puttying up the crack, learned to play 
several tunes upon it sufliciently well to be fifer in the 
militia company of Captain Gay (4). This was be- 
fore the war some years, for I think I must have been 
about nine or ten years old. The flag of the company 
was English; so were they all then. 

I saw the tea when it was destroyed at Boston, which 
began the disturbance, and likewise beheld several 
persons tarred and feathered and carried through the 
town; they were tide-waiters, custom-house officers — I 
think they called them informers. 

^ Three were killed and eight wounded, two of them mortally. 

L4l 



At the age of thirteen I was sent eastward to a place 
called Falmouth (Portland), 150 miles from Boston, 
to live with my father's only brother (5), whom I was 
named after. He was a cabinet-maker by trade but 
had concerns in the shipping business likewise, and 
was looked upon to be an able, or rich, man. His wife 
was dead, he had no children, and I was his favorite. 
The whole country at this time was in commotion and 
nothing was talked of but war, liberty, or death; per- 
sons of all descriptions were embodying themselves 
into military companies, and every old drunken fellow 
they found who had been a soldier, or understood what 
is called the manual exercise, was employed of evenings 
to drill them. My uncle was lieutenant of an inde- X 
pendent company (the Cadets), and of course I was 
engaged to play the fife while they were learning to 
march, a pistareen an evening for my services keeping 
me in pocket-money. Being thus early thrown into the 
society of men and having, as it were, imbibed the 
ardor of a military spirit; being moreover the only 
boy who knew how to play the fife in the place, I was 
much caressed by them. 

I stayed with my uncle two years, until the time 
arrived when we had an account that the British troops 
had marched out of Boston, attacked the country 
people at a place called Lexington, and killed a number 
of them (6). I had frequently been inclined to return 
to Boston that I might see my father, mother, sister, 
and brothers, but as I was not permitted to do so, I 
took it into my head, saying nothing to any one about 
it, to go alone on foot in the beginning of May, 1775. 
The distance was 150 miles and the country so thinly 
inhabited that I had to traverse, at times, woods seven 
miles in length, and I had never traveled before more 
than three or four miles by land into the country. I 
concluded to set out on a Sunday, for then they would 
not be so apt to miss me, and not having mentioned my 

1:53 



determination of going, they would not think it pos- 
sible so young a boy would, without any manner of 
cause, attempt such a journey. My reason for going 
was I wished to see my parents, who, I was afraid, 
would all be killed by the British, for, as I observed 
before, nothing was talked of but murder and war. 

Sunday morning, when in New England all is still 
and no persons are in the streets, having eaten my break- 
fast, I took a handkerchief and tied up in it two or 
three shirts and a pair or two of stockings, and with 
what clothes I had on my back and four and a half 
pistareens in my pocket, jumped over the fence in the 
back yard and set off. I walked rapidly through the 
town without meeting any one I knew, as it was break- 
fast-time, and when once beyond the outskirts, being 
a very strong-constitutioned boy, off I went with a light 
heart and a good pair of heels; sometimes I ran and 
sometimes trotted like a horse, and I really believe I 
accomplished forty miles the first day. I do not 
recollect that I was the least tired during my whole 
journey. As I traveled through the different towns 
the people were preparing to march toward Boston to 
fight, and as I had my fife with me — yes, and I was 
armed likewise with my sword — I was greatly caressed 
by them. Stopping at the taverns where there was 
a muster, out came my fife and I played them a tune or 
two; they used to ask me where I came from and where 
I was going to, and when I told them I was going to 
fight for my country, they were astonished such a little 
boy, and alone, should have such courage. Thus by 
the help of my fife I lived, as it were, on what is usually 
called free-quarters nearly upon the entire route. ^ 

- On Lexington Day, April 19, 1775, Captain William H. Ballard 
(later of Colonel James Frye's regiment) started his company with 
a few men in Amesbury, Essex County, Massachusetts, and then 
drummed up a number more, during the month of May, along the 
New Hampshire coast. It does seem as if the recruiting sergeant 




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As nigh as I can remember It took me four days and 
a half to reach Charlestown, opposite Boston; but on 
Charlestown Neck there stood a Yankee soldier or 
sentry who stopped me, telling me that I must not go 
past him. I attempted, however, to get by him and 
run, when another fellow caught me and carried me 
to the guard-house, which was a barn standing not far 
off. Here I was kept all night, when they let me go, 
informing me that In order to go down to Charlestown 
ferry a pass must be obtained from General Ward, at 
Cambridge; but by no means would I be permitted to 
go into Boston to see my parents, as all communica- 
tion was cut off between the British and the country 
people. The war had begun, they told me; the British 
had marched out into the country to Lexington, to the- 
tune of "Yankee Doodle," but they had made them 
dance it back again. 

I immediately set off for Cambridge after my pass, 
got it, and traveled back for Charlestown ferry; but 
I was not allowed, after two years' absence from home, 
to go over and see my parents. Everything on the 
opposite shore was familiar to me, and I was well 
acquainted with the person who kept the ferry, Mr. 
Enoch Hopkins, whose son used to go to school with 
me. There I stood alone, without a friend or a house 
to shelter me for the night, surrounded by women and 
children, some crying and others in different situations 
of distress, for the Boston people were flocking out of 
town over the ferry In crowds, with what little furni- 
ture they were permitted to take with them. The 
British governor, or, more properly calling him, 

came across John Greenwood tramping his way down from Fal- 
mouth, for on his roll was entered: "John Greenwood of Boston, 
May 14, Fifer, age 16." But, as John says, a light pair of heels 
evidently carried the young fifer onward to his destination, and a 
company roll, dated Cambridge, June 13, marks Greenwood 
"absent." ("N. E. Hist. Geneal. Reg.," Vol. LX, p. 44.) 

1:73 



"Granny Gage," gave permission to the inhabitants, 
before the battle of Bunker Hill, to leave the town, 
but placed a fellow by the name Cunningham-^ (the no- 
torious master of the New York provost during the 
war) at the ferry stairs, to search their trunks and 
little bundles and take from the women and children 
their pins, needles, and scissors, in short anything he 
pleased, which, with his noted cruelty, he would throw 
into the river while the poor helpless creatures were 
weeping. O British magnanimity ! Brave fellows ! 

This, however, is nothing to their boasted valor. 
They dared not show their faces to us over their breast- 
works after Bunker Hill frolic. They then found out 
to their sorrow what kind of stuff Yankees were made 
of; they lost In killed and wounded in that battle up- 
ward of iioo of their best troops, and we lost about 
200. The British had ten men to our one, as history 
will inform you, and I was an eye-witness. 

But to return : Charlestown was at the time gener- 
ally deserted by the inhabitants, and the houses were, 
with few exceptions, empty; so, not knowing what to do 
nor where to go and without a penny in my pockets. 
If I remember rightly, I entered a very large tavern that 
was filled with all descriptions of people. Here I saw 
three or four persons whom I knew, and, my fife stick- 
ing in the front of my coat, they asked me, after many 
questions, to play them a tune. I complied forthwith, 
but although the fife is somewhat of a noisy instru- 
ment to play upon, it could hardly be heard for the din 
and confusion around. Such a scene cannot be de- 
scribed, nor hardly conceived, save by those who 
have beheld something similar to it. 

After I had rattled off several tunes, there was one 

^William Cunningham, an Irishman, provost marshal to the 
royal army; executed in London for forging a draft on the Ord- 
nance Board, August 10, 1791, aged fifty-three. 

in 



Hardy Pierce^ who, with Enoch Howard^ and three 
or four others, invited me to go up to Cambridge to 
their quarters, as they called it. When there they 
tried to persuade me to enlist as a fifer, telling me 
that it was only for eight months, and that I would 
receive eight dollars a month and be found in pro- 
visions; moreover, they calculated to quickly drive the 
British from Boston, when I would have an oppor- 
tunity of seeing my parents, I waited for four or five 
days to see if I could get into Boston, living meanwhile 
in their quarters. The army which kept the British 
penned up in the city at the time was no better than a 
mob, the different companies not being formed as yet, 
that I could observe, into regiments or divisions. This 
was in the latter part of May, 1775. Concluding 
finally that it would be best for me, I enlisted for eight 
months^ in the company of Captain Bliss, which was 
quartered in the house of the Episcopal minister (8), 
who, with his family, had deserted it at an early period 
of the disturbances and gone into Boston. 

There we stayed; to call it living is out of the ques- 
tion, for we had to sleep in our clothes upon the bare 
floor. I do not recollect that I even had a blanket, but 
I remember well the stone which I had to lay my head 
upon. Not more than two or three weeks passed by 

* In 1775 H. Pierce, of Boston, was first corporal in Captain 
T. T. Bliss's company. See Note 7. 

^ E. Howard, of Boston, enlisted May 24, 1775, as a private in 
Captain Lemuel Trescott's company. Colonel Jonathan Brewer's 
regiment, time, eight months. 

® On a muster roll of Captain Bliss's company, dated August i, 
1775. appears John Greenwood's name with rank as fifer; time of 
service, two months, six days; residence, Boston. ("Mass. Revol. 
Records," Vol. XIV, p. 42.) It also appears on a return of Colonel 
Patterson's 26th Regiment of Foot, dated October 6, 1775, on file 
in the State House, Boston, and on an order of December 12, 
1775, from certain members of Captain Bliss's company to the 
Committee on the Pay-table at Watertown, for bounty-money, in 
lieu of coats, due the subscribers. 

1:93 



when I began to think if I had not some friend or 
relation near Cambridge, and happened to recollect a 
great-aunt (9) then living in a town twenty miles from 
the camp. I procured a furlough or permit from my 
captain one morning, to go and see her, and set off 
briskly after breakfast, without a penny in my pockets. 
With a spirit too proud to beg a mouthful to eat I 
traveled onward, and late in the afternoon arrived 
within a few miles of the town, which is called Andover. 
I was now so hungry that I thought a piece of live 
sheep in the neighboring field would be relishable, but 
although so near the town, at this point, strange as it 
may appear — unaccountable, improbable, or whatever 
else you may please to call that which I am about to 
relate — I yet assert it as a fact, and am willing to take 
my oath, that as I was proceeding onward there was 
a certain something that prevented me from going for- 
ward; it seemed to push me back, or, as it were, insist 
on my returning. I attempted still to advance but 
could not, yet on wheeling around to retrace my foot- 
steps, I could do so without uneasiness and with pleas- 
ure; moreover I traveled very fast. 

I proceeded a considerable distance on my way 
back, as I walked some time after dark, but became so 
fatigued and hungry that I was obliged to stop at a 
farm-house to beg something to eat and ask permis- 
sion to lie on the kitchen floor that night. They gave 
me some mush and milk and a blanket to lie down on, 
and I was soon sound asleep, but early the next morn- 
ing, before the people were stirring, I had again started 
for Cambridge, or the camp. 

At dawn of day I heard the firing of great guns,''^ 
which caused me to quicken my pace, for I supposed the 
armies were engaged and, being enlisted, I thought it 
was my duty to be there. By ten o'clock I had reached 

"^ The Lively, Captain Thomas Bishop, opened fire upon the 
American works at daybreak. 



Cambridge common, where I met a man whom I knew, 
by the name of Michael Grout, who informed me that 
my mother, who had come over the day before from 
Boston, was In his house, where he had left her only 
a few minutes before. His house, he told me, was 
just behind the meeting-house. When I reached the 
house I had been directed to I found my mother, sur- 
rounded by weeping women and children. She had no 
sooner seen me than she exclaimed, "Johnny, do get 
me away from here !" and appeared no more frightened 
than if nothing had been the matter. "Go," said she, 
"up to Cousin Fuller's^ and get his (riding) chair im- 
mediately." It was near by, so off I set, but found 
that Mr. Fuller, who was one of the leading char- 
acters in the Provincial Congress, had gone to Water- 
town; so I procured a horse and side-saddle, but found 
on returning to the house where I had left my mother 
that she had gone. 

I forgot to mention that as soon as my father heard 
I was among the rebels he went to Governor Gage and 
got a permission for my mother (lo) to visit the 
American camp, provided with money to hire a man 
in my stead. She was also to procure a permit for me 
to go into Boston. Accordingly she came over the 
day before the attack on Bunker Hill, but was not al- 
lowed to return, although she had powerful friends 
and relations among the rebels, as the British called 
us. After the arrival, however, of General Washing- 
ton, when she had been absent from Boston then about 
six (sic) weeks, she applied to him in person. He con- 

* Judge Abraham Fuller was a member of the Third Provincial 
Congress from May 31 to July 19. As head of the committee of 
that body he took charge at Concord of the military papers and 
removed them safely, so that they escaped the hands of the British 
troops. He left $1000 toward founding an academy in Newton 
(Cambridge Village), where he died, April 20, 1794, aged seventy- 
four. His uncle, Isaac Fuller, married Hannah Greenwood, grand- 
daughter of Thomas and Hannah (Ward) Greenwood. 



sented immediately — and that against the will of a 
great many of the officers and others — to her return- 
ing to my father. She was the first and only person 
who had permission^ to go into Boston after the battle 
of Bunker Hill. I did not see my mother again until 
she left the camp, and meanwhile she had believed me 
dead, as some person informed her, a few days after 
the battle, that I had been killed in the engagement. 

As I was observing, previous to this digression, not 
finding my mother at Mr. Grout's on my return, and 
not knowing where she was, I let the horse go, saddle 
and all, to find the way home the best way it could, and 
down I went toward the battle to find the company I 
belonged to, then about two miles off. As I passed 
through Cambridge common I saw a number of 
wounded who had been brought from the field of con- 
flict. Everywhere the greatest terror and confusion 
seemed to prevail, and as I ran along the road leading 
to Bunker Hill it was filled with chairs and wagons, 
bearing the wounded and dead, while groups of men 
were employed in assisting others, not badly injured, 
to walk. Never having beheld such a sight before, I 
felt very much frightened, and would have given the 
world if I had not enlisted as a soldier; I could posi- 
tively feel my hair stand on end. Just as I came near 
the place a negro man, wounded in the back of his neck, 
passed me and, his collar being open and he not having 
anything on except his shirt and trousers, I saw the 
wound quite plainly and the blood running down his 
back. I asked him if it hurt him much as he did not 
seem to mind it; he said no, that he was only going to 

^Washington arrived in camp July 2, I775' The petition of 
Daniel Murray, son of Colonel John Murray, of Rutland, Massa- 
chusetts, that his sister and two brothers might pass into Boston 
was sent by the commander to the Massachusetts Committee of 
Safety and laid before the Provincial Congress, which body was of 
the opinion (July 7) that the petition ought not to be granted, and 
referred to their resolution passed June 24. 



get a plaster put on it, and meant to return. You 
cannot conceive what encouragement this immediately 
gave me; I began to feel brave and like a soldier from 
that moment, and fear never troubled me afterward 
during the whole war. 

As good luck would have it I found the company I 
belonged to stationed ( 1 1 ) on the road in sight of the 
battle, with two field-pieces,^*^ it having been joined to 
the regiment commanded by Colonel John Patterson 
(12) from Stockbridge^^ (afterward the 12th Massa- 
chusetts Bay Regiment). Captain Bliss (13), who 
had given me permission the day before to go a dis- 
tance of more than twenty miles, was astonished to see 
me, and asked me how I had returned so soon. I 
thought I might as well appear brave as not and make 
myself to be thought so by others, so I told him that, 
having heard cannon firing early in the morning, I 
considered it my duty to be with my fellow-soldiers; 
that I had run all the way back for that purpose, and 
intended to go into the battle to find them — which I 
certainly would have done, as big a coward as I was on 
setting out to join my companions. The cause of my 
fears then was, I presume, being alone, for I cannot 
say that I ever felt so afterward. I was much caressed 
by my captain and the company, who regarded me as 
a brave little fellow. 

The British received such a warm reception from 
the Americans that they dared not advance one inch 
farther from the spot they had possession of. If they 

1° When we learn that some privates of the regiment were in the 
train and that Captain Bliss was the following year in Colonel 
Lamb's regiment of (New York) artillery, it becomes of interest to 
know whether these two pieces of cannon remained with his com- 
pany while attached to Patterson's regiment. On an adjacent hill 
(Cobble) Major Gridley, of the artillery, ordered into action by 
General Ward, halted his two pieces of cannon; he was afterward 
cashiered. 

^^ See Appendix A. 

CIS] 



had we were ready at our station to give them another 
battle, as we were placed there for that purpose and to 
cover a retreat. The next morning we began, in sight 
of them, at the distance of half-cannon shot, to build 
a fort on Prospect Hill (14), and they likewise began 
to build another opposite to it. 

One of the British soldiers was asked, after the en- 
gagement at Bunker Hill, by a comrade who had been 
in Boston during the battle, how it was, and what sort 
of fellows the Yankees were. "Faith!" replied the 
former, who was an Irishman, "don't bother me, for 
I can tell you all about it in a few words — it was 
diamond cut diamond — and that's the whole story, 
my dear honey." 

As my father lived near the ferry my brothers (15) 
were at this point and, the river being only half a mile 
wide, saw the whole battle. The wounded were 
brought over in the boats belonging to the men-of-war, 
and they were obliged to bail the blood out of them 
like water, while these very boats carried back the 
fresh troops who stood ready to reinforce those en- 
gaged. My brother told me that the wives, or women, 
of the British soldiers were at the ferry encouraging 

them, saying: "D the Yankee rebels, my brave 

British boys, give it to them!" He observed likewise 
that the soldiers looked as pale as death when they 
got into the boats, for they could plainly see their 
brother redcoats mowed down like grass by the 
Yankees, the whole scene being directly before their 
eyes. The Americans were all chiefly marksmen, and 
loading their guns each with a ball and five buck-shot, 
reserved their fire until the English troops had ad- 
vanced within pistol range. I was told the enemy fell 
like grass when mowed, and while they were filling up 
their ranks to advance again the Yankees gave them 
the second fire with the same effect, two or three 
dropping at the discharge of every gun. The British 



then began to fall back and retreat, and it was with 
some difficulty their officers could rally them to the 
charge. The Yankees stood their ground and waited 
until they had advanced within a hundred feet, when 
they fired again, continuing it for some time, about half 
an hour, when the British retreated a second time. 
After they had received additional troops they again 
pushed forward, but on being welcomed as before, 
pretty warmly, they were again obliged to retreat, and 
it was with very great difficulty their officers could 
persuade them to rally, telling them they must, as 
British valor and courage were at stake and would be 
doubted. From the Boston side the British officers 
were seen to drive their soldiers on to the charge with 
swords and bayonets — this is a fact well known to 
many living witnesses at this day. 

With a reinforcement, for they were all the time 
sending troops over from Boston, they came on again, 
and the sound of the guns firing appeared like the roll 
of a hundred drums. At last^^ the bayonet went to 
work, and as the majority of the Americans, using 
fowling-pieces, had no weapons of this kind, and as 
many even had no more powder, they clubbed their 
guns and knocked the enemy down with the butt-ends. 
But at last, for the want of bayonets and powder, they 
were obliged themselves to retreat and leave the 
English in possession of a dear-bought little piece of 
ground. 

It is falsely reported that the Americans were in- 
trenched in a strong fort; it was no such thing. The 

^- David Collins, afterward (1804) first governor of Van Die- 
men's Land, claimed to have been the first to enter the American 
works; he was then but nineteen years old, and died in 1810. In 
the American camp, however, it was known that William Richard- 
son, a young lieutenant of the i8th, or Royal Irish, was the first 
person who mounted the parapets; he was dangerously wounded. 
This circumstance is mentioned by General Washington in a letter 
of July 27, 177s. 



case Is this : about 800 men were ordered to make a fort 
the night before the battle on a rising piece of ground 
directly opposite Boston. This was called Breed's 
Hill, and there was a very gentle slope down to the 
river, so that at the distance of a quarter-mile from the 
bank one could easily roll up a loaded barrow. These 
800 men were without spades or pickaxes, or at least 
a sufficient number of them, for it is well known that 
the mob or army could not at that early time be sup- 
plied with these articles, and I cannot believe that 
there were more than, if as many as, 300 tools to work 
with. It was twelve o'clock at night before they com- 
menced, and, being persons unaccustomed to such labor, 
it is reasonable to suppose that one half of them were 
idle and looking on, while a great number were playing 
— I judge by what I have seen myself on similar oc- 
casions. Well, even admitting they were all at 
work hard during the entire night. Is it not natural to 
think they would be tired by morning? But you find 
it was not the case. They fought like hell-hounds 
more than six hours, these very men who, they say, were 
building this great fort the night before. Now the 
fact is this: there was nothing that could with any 
propriety be even called a breastwork, much less a 
fort. A little earth had been heaved up In a pile; In 
some places It was as high as a man's waist, but the 
chief part of It would only reach his knee. It was 
entirely open on the back, and was not half so good a 
defense as a common stone wall. All the cannon In 
it consisted of two field-pieces of 3-pound balls, one of 
which. In the beginning of the battle, had the carriage 
shot away by a 24-pound shot from the Boston side 
at Copp's Hill, while the other was of little use on 
account of the scarcity of powder. 

Toward the middle of the engagement the British, 
by firing what are called carcasses, struck several houses 
in Charlestown, one of them lodging in the steeple of 



the meeting-house, and the town, which is situated at 
the foot of Bunker, or Breed's, Hill, was soon in a light 
blaze. The fools! it was of no great advantage to 
them, as it made a great smoke which the wind blew 
directly on both combatants. 

After the battle little else was done by either party 
except the building of breastworks and forts, as the 
enemy were by this time convinced that we would sell 
every inch of ground at as dear a rate as we could. 

What I have related is as nigh the truth as can be 
possibly arrived at. 

One day,^^ as I was standing by my tent, who should 

^^Tuesday, July ii, 1775, on the records of the Massachusetts 
Provincial Congress we find the following item : "Resolved — That 
this Congress has no objection to Mrs. Mary Greenwood having 
a permit to go into Boston." No papers in connection are on file 
among the state archives. 

In a letter book of General Washington, preserved in the Library 
of Congress, there is the following one written by his secretary: 

Sir 

I am directed by the General to desire (you) 
would permit the Woman who is the Bearer of (this) 
to pass over to Charlestown in order to ^ve Conveyance (to) 
Boston first taking proper Precautions that she 
receives no Paper from any Person in her way. 
Her name is Greenwood & her Case appears by (the) 
Petition herewith. 

I am Sir 

Your very 

Huml Ser^ 

J. Reed 

Head Quarter 

July 13th: 1775 

To Genl Puttnam 

Some words are lost, as the edges of the book are worn. The 
petition was evidently enclosed in the original letter sent to Gen- 
eral Putnam, whose post on Prospect Hill was then the main 
defense against the enemy. It is not so easy to identify Mrs. Green- 
wood's escort, but he may have been Sergeant John Mills, of one 



I see but my mother coming toward me in company 
with Sergeant (afterward Major) Mills. "Well, 
Johnny," said she, "I am going at last to see your 
father, thank God! I hope you will behave like a 
soldier, and who knows but what you may be a gen- 
eral." She bade me good-by, and the sergeant who 
had the care of conducting her to the British lines went 
with her to a fort on Prospect Hill, or as the enemy, 
believing it impregnable, had called it. Mount Pisgah. 
It was nothing, however, but a common dirt fort made 
of ground and covered with sods of grass, mounting 
about eight or ten iron guns, from 9- to i8-pounders, 
nevertheless it was strong enough for them. This 
fort, moreover, which, as well as I can remember, 
might have held a thousand men crowded into it, 
was entirely open in the rear. We, however, did not 
depend upon forts, for we meant to attack them in 
the roads and fields if they did but venture to show 
themselves. Our sentries were then so nigh each 
other that conversation used to be carried on between 
those of either side — this I have myself seen. On the 
present occasion both parties were firing random shot 
at each other from their large cannon, but so little 
were we afraid of the British that Sergeant Mills went 
with my mother around the camp in order to show it 
to her. She told the American officers, however, that 
she had rather be conducted to the British lines as soon 
as possible, and asked them what she should say if the 
English asked her any questions about them. Their 
answer was: "Tell them we are ready for them at any 
time they choose to come out to attack us." 

My mother was then taken to the lines and walked 
alone from the American to the British sentry, where- 
upon a portion of the guard came down from Bunker 

of the Connecticut regiments, who in June, 1775, was appointed 
regimental quartermaster, and in July regimental adjutant, and 
two years later was captain of the 2d Connecticut Regiment. 



Hill and escorted her into the fort. There the com- 
manding officer, Major Small, ^^ an acquaintance and 
friend of my father, treated her with the greatest 
politeness (for every person who was. acquainted with 
him knows he was a real gentleman) and waited upon 
her himself to her residence in Boston, whence she was 
desired to attend on Governor Gage. At the gov- 
ernor's house she found a number of the first officers, 
who, after asking her a number of questions, wished 
to know what the rebels said. "I asked them what 
answer I should give if you put such a question to me," 
she replied, "and they said, 'Tell them we are ready 
for them at any time they choose to come out.' " The 
British governor was very much obliged to her for her 
information generally, and said that he had no further 
interrogations to make. For my part I presume he 
had not, for the answer to the last question frightened 
him so much he did not feel inclined to ask any more. 

^* Major (later Major-General) John Small was major com- 
mandant of the 84th Foot, or Royal Highland Emigrants, 2d Bat- 
talion, raised in June, 1775, with Governor Gage as colonel. He 
died in March, 1795, aged seventy years, lieotenant-governor of 
Guernsey. ("N. Y. Col. MSS.," Vol. VHI, p. 588.) 



1^91 



CHAPTER II 

Siege and evacuation of Boston; regiment or- 
dered TO Canada; part taken prisoners at 
THE Cedars; General Arnold signs a cartel 

AND gives hostages TO THE ENEMY 

THE English were so penned up in Boston that 
they could get no fresh provisions^ except what 
they stole from the poor unprotected inhabi- 
tants near the seashore, and they were in such want as 
to be obliged to risk their lives and make daring attacks 
even in the vicinity of our troops. On one occasion 
(i6) they came over to steal some cows that were 
grazing on a neck of land called Lechmere's Point, 
about half a mile from the encampment of our regi- 
ment. Covered by a sloop or ship-of-war of eighteen 
guns, the enemy effected a landing and began to drive 
the cows, but were immediately perceived by our peo- 
ple, who quickly marched down toward them. A creek 
of water (Willis Creek) ran across the road leading 
to the point, the bridge over which, as it was now high 
tide, was covered with water to the depth of a man's 
waist. A party which was screened from us by a stone 
wall had been sent to prevent our crossing, but, plung- 

1 Freneau, in his "Midnight Musings," 1775, assigns these words 
to Governor Gage: 

"Three weeks, ye gods! nay, three long years it seems 
Since roast-beef I have seen, except in dreams." 

1:203 



Ing In, we were soon over, and as quickly made them 
run. Just as we had crossed the bridge our men were 
exposed to the fire from the British fort at Bunker Hill, 
of 1 8- and 24-pound guns. I recollect that as eight or 
ten of us were In a huddle running up the hill, a ball 
from a 24-pounder struck about three feet before me, 
driving the dirt smack In our faces. We ran on and 
just got down so as to get a shot at them before they 
pushed off. They did not take anything with them, 
however, and only stabbed two or three cows with 
their bayonets. The night following we knocked up a 
small fort, placed four heavy guns upon It, and quickly 
made the ship-of-war quit her station. 

Night was the time for frolicking, as the British were 
constantly sending bombs at us, and sometimes from 
two to six at a time could be seen in the air overhead, 
looking like moving stars In the heavens. These shells 
were mostly thirteen inches In diameter, and It was 
astonishing how high they could send such heavy 
things. I have often seen them strike the ground when 
It was frozen and bound up like a foot-ball, and again, 
falling on marshy land, they would bury themselves 
from ten to twelve feet In It, whereupon, the wet ground 
having extinguished the fusee, the Yankees would dig 
them up to get the powder out. On one occasion a 13- 
inch bomb dropped directly opposite the door of the 
picket guard-house where 200 men were on duty, and 
a lad about eighteen years old, named Shubael Rament 
(17), belonging to our company, ran out, knocked the 
fusee from the shell, and took the powder out of It, of 
which I had some myself to kill snipe with. Some of 
our sentries were placed In very dangerous situations, 
much exposed to the fire of the enemy, who, having 
plenty of powder to waste, were almost constantly at 
It. We, however, became so accustomed to this that 
nothing was thought of It, and for half a pint of ani- 
seed water one soldier who was a little timid could get 



another to stand for him as sentry in the most perilous 
place (i8). 

During the entire winter we were amused in this way, 
nothing material happening. One night (March 2, 
1776) while our troops were firing into Boston over 
Roxbury Neck, a ball from a 9-pounder struck into the 
British guard-house and carried off the legs of ten men^ 
as they were sitting on a bench together. Frequently 
we mustered and marched up to Cambridge Creek, 
with the idea that we were about to attack and storm 
the British in Boston. In the creek were a number of flat- 
bottomed boats, constructed to carry about forty men, 
and we used to put two of them together with a plat- 
form between, get on board, and see how we could 
manage them. Here we had likewise large floating bat- 
teries,"' carrying heavy guns and roofed over like a 
house. With these we were to attack Boston — aye, 
and should have done it if ordered, for danger we knew 
none — and would certainly have taken the place with 
such men as we had. This plan, however, was given up 
for another, viz., to build a fort on Dorchester Heights 
very near the city so as to command the harbor. At 
the latter work we went (March 4) with about 3000 
or 4000 men, and having all the fascines ready made, 
the British were in the morning surprised at beholding 
a fort which would have so great a command over 
them. 

The British admiral (Shuldham) told the general 
(Howe) that the place must be attacked immediately 
or he could not remain with his ships in the harbor. 
Accordingly 5000 or 6000 men were sent off in boats 
to take the fort, but such a storm arose that they were 

2 Frothingham's "Siege of Boston," p. 297, says six men were 
wounded. 

^ For an account and drawing of these batteries see Lossing's 
"Field Book of the Revolution," Vol. I, p. 575; Heath's "Memoirs," 
p. 29. 



obliged to give up the design. Had they succeeded in 
landing they would certainly have been overpowered, 
for it was a steep hill and the Americans had a 
number of hogsheads and barrels filled with sand to roll 
down^ upon them, and intended to sally out of the fort 
upon them when in confusion, and they would have 
liked no better fun. 

I forgot to mention a piece of diversion, planned by 
old Putnam, which happened about two months before 
Dorchester Heights were taken possession of. One 
afternoon (January 8) about sundown a party of near 
fifty men from our regiment (under Captain William 
Wyman and Lieutenant William Augustus Patterson) 
were ordered to march on an expedition, and, having 
the curiosity to know where they were going and being 
then fife-major, I concluded to play for them myself; 
accordingly I went, accompanied by the drum-major.^ 
We were marched into a field a short distance from 
the camp and there joined by other parties to the num- 
ber of 200 men (19), of whom some thirty or forty 
were provided with large bundles of chips dipped in 
brimstone and turpentine. Between nine and ten o'clock 
Putnam ordered us to march without the least noise or 
any music, leading us down to an old causeway belong- 
ing to Charlestown mills, which ran directly under 
Bunker Hill and within pistol-shot of the fort. When 
Charlestown was burned about ten or twelve houses 
were left unconsumed, and these were now inhabited 
by a parcel of stragglers, such as sutlers, mechanics, 
and camp women. Our men crossed the causeway (or 
mill-dam from Cobble Hill), surprised the different 
sentries, took a number of prisoners, and set fire to 
these houses right under their very noses, the enemy at 
the fort being so astonished as not to fire for some 

* Suggested by Brigadier-General Thomas Mifflin, though Heath 
says "a Mr. William Davis of Boston." 
^ Jonathan Kinney. 

1:233 



time, at least not until the houses were in a light blaze. 
I never heard that we lost a single man. 

The reason for this frolic being undertaken was that, 
as General Washington had many spies in Boston and 
could ascertain everything the British were about, he had 
learned that on the very evening in question they were 
about to enact a new play in derision of the Yankees, 
called the "Blockade of Boston," wherein was depicted 
the supposed ignorance and cowardice of our soldiers, 
— for you know they are good hands at running down 
all nations save themselves. Just as the play was at 
its height and as one of the actors was representing a 
Yankee sentinel, rigged out like a tailor with his paper 
measures hanging over his shoulders and his large 
shears sticking out of his pocket, etc., resting or leaning 
upon his gun and conversing with a countryman who 
had a newspaper, — just at that very time it so happened 
that Putnam had the houses at Charlestown set on fire. 
This produced such an alarm in Boston that a sergeant 
rushed upon the stage and cried out as loud as he could : 
"To arms! to arms! gentlemen, the rebels are upon 
us!" The audience thought he was acting part of the 
play and clapped him stoutly because he did so well, 
and it was some time before he could make them under- 
stand it was no sham. When they did, however, they 
tumbled down-stairs, over one another as fast as they 
could, and broke up the Yankee play. My father and 
mother were in the house (Faneuil Hall) at the time 
and witnessed the scene. 

When the British perceived that it would be impos- 
sible to drive us from Dorchester Heights without 
another Bunker Hill frolic, or one much worse, they 
concluded to quit the town, not burning it if we let them 
go quietly; so we permitted them to depart, with their 
braggadocios, in peace. The first thing they did was to 
march from Bunker Hill in the night, leaving the can- 



non in the fort, and two effigies,^ stuffed with straw, to 
stand sentry with guns upon their shoulders, etc. They 
passed over to Boston and, in a short time, embarked 
on their ships and were off for Halifax; so I will leave 
them until necessary to make mention of them again. 

As my first term of enlistment expired during the 
continuance of the siege (Christmas, 1775), I had en- 
listed again for one year more. Two or three days 
after the British quitted Bunker Hill, but before they 
had finally left Boston (viz., on March 18, 1776), our 
regiment had orders to march for New York, and as 
we set off at great speed I had not the satisfaction of 
seeing my parents, from whom I had been absent al- 
most three years. We traveled to New London and, 
embarking thence, arrived in New York, where, after 
a stay of about three weeks, ^ we were ordered (April 
21) to Canada, and proceeded up the river on sloops 
to Albany (20). 

Our regiment consisted at the time of 500 strong 
and tolerably well-disciplined soldiers, badly equipped 
as to guns, however, as the majority had fowling-pieces 
of different sizes and bores and few of them had bayo- 
nets. Moreover, the men were unfurnished with 
swords to fight with in close quarters, although a few 
of them had tomahawks. We soon arrived at Ticon- 
deroga, whence we sailed (May 4) in boats through 
Lake Champlain to St. Johns, marched to La Prairie, 
and finally crossed over to Montreal (on the 15th), 
where we were quartered in large stone barracks ad- 
joining the North Gate. The city, being walled in, 
is supplied with gates for egress, over which are guard- 
houses. The greater part of our army (21) was now 

® One of these figures, according to President Stiles's (Yale Col- 
lege) Diary, March 17, bore on its breast a placard inscribed: 
"Welcome, Brother Jonathan!" 

'' During which time Greenwood had a set of fifes made for the 
regiment by Mr. A. Turk. 



down the St, Lawrence toward Quebec at a place called 
Three Rivers. We had been in Montreal but a few days 
when numbers of our men were attacked with the 
smallpox and carried to the hospital. 

At this time there was a regiment stationed farther 
up the river, at the Cedars, about thirty-five miles 
southwest from Montreal, under the command of 
Colonel Bedel (22). It was now surrounded by 1300 
Indians and sixty-odd British troops, having with them 
two brass field-pieces and a company of Canadian sol- 
diers. The American regiment consisted, as I was 
told, of 600 or 700 altogether. Colonel Bedel had 
intrenched himself in a small fort, and was so com- 
pletely hemmed in by the enemy that he could get no 
supplies whatever. He sent an express down to Gen- 
eral Arnold, who was the commanding officer at Mon- 
treal, for a reinforcement and provisions, but was 
obliged to surrender to the mercy of the Indians before 
he could be assisted. Arnold, not knowing he had 
given up his troops, sent^ to his aid 200 men from our 
regiment, with three wagons loaded with provisions. 
My captain. Bliss, and the lieutenant, Edward Com- 
stock,^ who is now (1809) living in Albany, were of 
the party, and I, as fife-major and able to send what 
fifer I pleased, detailed two fifers who, with two drum- 
mers, accompanied them. Off they all marched, little 
thinking what a time they would have of it. 

The party was commanded by our major, Henry 
Sherburne (23), now (1809) State Treasurer of 
Rhode Island; a braver man never was made, and he 
was a strict disciplinarian. When they arrived at Fort 
Ann, about thirty miles up the St. Lawrence River, 
they crossed over and began their march toward the 
Cedars, which was some three or four miles from the 

* May 16, 1776; Bedel surrendered on the 19th. 
'^Edward Cumston was second lieutenant; for John Cumston, 
first lieutenant, see Note 18. 



opposite shore. The Indians, who had timely notice 
of their coming, lined the woods and bushes alongside 
the road, close to a small bridge and about two miles 
from where they landed, and likewise sent a party to 
destroy their boats and take the men prisoners who 
had been left in charge of them. As soon as the Ameri- 
cans came opposite to the place where the Indians were 
concealed (May 20), the latter rose up and poured 
upon them a tremendous fire, making at the same time 
a most hideous noise called the war-whoop, which 
sounds thus: "Woo-woo-woo-whoop !" (The last 
syllable is raised to a monstrous scream or yell, and 
this is kept up so incessantly that it is impossible 
to hear the word of command from your officers.) 
Our men fought the 1300 devils for upward of 
two hours and killed a number of them, including 
several chiefs, and losing themselves sixty-odd men 
besides having many more wounded. The Indians 
are not such good marksmen in an engagement 
as they are in hunting, neither are they so brave 
as generally represented, for they cannot face an 
enemy; their mode of fighting is very irregular, 
and they like something to get behind or skulk under. 
Major Sherburne, however, was obliged at last to 
give up, and no sooner were his men prisoners than the 
Indians, exasperated from the loss of some of their 
best chiefs and warriors, fell to work stripping and 
leaving stark naked those who had clothes on fit for 
anything, despatching the wounded by knocking them 
on the head with their axes and tomahawks, and scalp- 
ing the dead, that is, tearing the skin and hair from 
the top of their heads. Previous to being slain the 
wounded had to suffer the torments inflicted by the 
children of the savages. The dead were also divested 
of their clothing and laid by the road-side, where 
our remaining troops were driven past them like 
cattle to witness the spectacle, the Indians bran- 



dishing their knives and tomahawks over their heads, 
and howling and screaming like madmen or devils. 
Thus they were taken to the Cedars, where the other 
prisoners were confined in an old stone church. The 
Indians, being so many in number and no providers 
for the future, were themselves in a state of starva- 
tion, and Colonel Bedel's regiment having no sup- 
plies when taken by them, you may imagine how 
the poor prisoners suffered; I believe if it had not 
been for the interference of the British troops, the 
Indians would have burned and murdered every one of 
them. They had already killed and destroyed every 
living creature around except the Roman Catholic 
priest's cow, and at last they knocked her in the head 
and, without skinning her, cutting the flesh off with 
their scalping knives while still alive, ate her, guts and 
all. 

The Indians were so elated with their success that In 
a day or two they began their march toward Montreal 
to attack us. At the time two thirds of our troops 
were down with the smallpox, then raging at its height, 
and we could spare not more than 500, bateaux men 
and all, to go and meet them, leaving a small number 
to guard the city. I must observe that it is a custom 
of the Indians always to carry their prisoners with 
them, placing them at night on a point of land near the 
river and putting a guard across. The prisoners, 
obliged to lie upon the damp ground in the open air 
without the least covering except the heavens, often 
well soaked with rain and with little or nothing to eat, 
are generally much debilitated and weakened and sub- 
ject to attacks of flux and fever. As soon as one poor 
fellow is not able, the next morning, to travel with 
them, the Indians knock him in the head, more for the 
sake of getting his scalp than of getting rid of him, for 
the scalp Is their trophy of war, and he who has In his 
possession the greatest number Is accounted the brav- 



est warrior. As they have no general among them, 
every one does pretty much as he pleases, so they 
brought their prisoners with them to within three or 
four miles of where we were in Montreal. 

(Saturday, May 25) Arnold paraded about 500 
men to go and give them battle. I was with the ad- 
vance-guard and we had not proceeded more than two 
miles beyond the city before three Indians were seen 
in the road coming toward us, who, as soon as they 
perceived us, gave the war-whoop, hove down their 
guns and blankets, and, flying to the woods, disap- 
peared in a moment. Our guide was a British soldier 
who had deserted from the Rangers, and Arnold now 
sent orders for him to cross the woods for the purpose 
of reconnoitering the enemy, while I, who happened to 
be near him and who was thought to be a brave little 
fellow of some intelligence, was appointed to accom- 
pany him. He had no other arms than a tomahawk, 
while I had a small japanned fusee and a sword, so I 
did not hesitate to go with him alone, although I did 
not much like his face. We cut across the woods; my 
gun was loaded, my sword was sharp, and I managed 
to be always on guard by keeping at a little distance 
from my companion, for I never liked a deserter or a 
traitor — neither can be trusted. Just at evening we ar- 
rived at a place called La Chine, ^"^ about eight miles 
from Montreal. Here Jack, the guide, left me by the 
side of a fence, telling me to remain there until he re- 
turned, as he was going to a small house that stood near 
by where he was well acquainted with the people, but 
where he was afraid my regimental clothing, a blue 
coat turned up with buff and trimmed with silver lace, 
would create suspicion. He went down and, having 
soon returned, desired me to follow him as it was then 
somewhat dark. I entered the house and found the 

^° "Glasheen" in the original manuscript. Southwest from 
Montreal. 

1:293 



inmates to consist of a Canadian man about fifty years 
old, his wife of thirty, whom he had purchased from 
the Indians as I learned, and an old Canadian woman 
perhaps seventy-five years of age. 

We had not been in the place more than ten or fifteen 
minutes before the war-whoop of the Indians was 
heard; we had got ahead of them, and they were now 
flying before General Arnold. The building was a one- 
story stone structure with two rooms on the ground 
floor. In one of these was a bed under which this 
fellow Jack and myself quickly ensconced ourselves. In 
a minute or two the house and the entire road were 
filled with Indians, making a most hideous noise and 
retreating as fast as they could toward Fort Ann, some 
twelve miles off. In about an hour they had all passed 
by without discovering us; had they found us we would 
have been burned alive. Jack now borrowed from the 
Canadian his spare clothes and, putting them on, left 
his own behind, saying, "We will follow them and see 
what they are about." So after them we went, not by 
the road but across the fields, and at length came to 
the settlement where the enemy had stopped, called 
Fort Ann, near which place we passed Into the road. 
The fences in that part of the country were sometimes 
made of logs set upright and as close as they can stand 
to one another. By the side of such a fence I was now 
told to wait while my companion, being disguised, went 
into the town to observe their movements. I was to 
remain until he returned, and had he been taken pris- 
oner, or had any mishap befallen him to prevent his 
coming back, I should have been obliged to stay there 
until daylight and be taken prisoner myself, for I never 
could have found my own way back to our detachment. 
I began to think what a situation I was In, standing in a 
nook between two posts of the fence, within hearing of 
the savage Indians. Every minute appeared an hour; 
sometimes I heard them walking by me in the road, 



then again I would fancy they were looking after me; 
in short I had but a very unpleasant time of it. 

A signal had been agreed upon between the guide 
and myself: he was to come along the fence with one 
hand touching it until he touched me; then I might be 
sure it was he. In about an hour he returned and 
touched me; it made my heart beat again. "Come 
along," he said, "the Indians are crossing the river, and 
will be all over before our troops can come up with 
them. We must go and inform the general." In haste 
we took our route back over the fields. It was quite 
dark and I, being slipshod, had the misfortune in get- 
ting over a high picket fence to drop one of my shoes, 
and, jumping down on a sharp stone, cut a large gash 
in my right heel. This hurt me considerably before the 
end of the two remaining miles to La Chine, y/here our 
troops then were. However, we reached this point 
near daylight and informed the general as to the situa- 
tion of the enemy. 

The troops were soon mustered for pursuit, but as 
I could not walk without much pain, I Vv^as obliged now 
to get into one of the boats. The river being very 
rapid, it was late before these bateaux, or boats, got up 
to Fort Ann, and the sun was about two hours high. 
The troops were in readiness to embark and follow the 
enemy, so on board they came, and I had the command 
of a blunderbuss at the bow of our boat. General Ar- 
nold was in a birch canoe paddled by two Indians who 
belonged to a party of 200 that had joined us after our 
arrival at La Chine, opposite to which place they have 
a town called Caughnawaga. (They are a cowardly set 
of fellows except they have the advantage of you.) 

About a half-hour before sunset we neared the oppo- 
site shore, at which point the river is very wide, some- 
thing like a bay. As we passed a small island, our boat 
being near it, a naked man up to his middle in the water 
was seen coming off to us. We rowed toward him and 

C3I] 



took him in, when he proved to be one of our men who 
had escaped from the Indians, anxious for his revenge 
against them, eager to conduct us where they were, and 
apparently no more concerned about his appearance 
than if he were dressed like a prince. We pushed on 
until within musket-shot of the shore (at Quinze 
Chiens). The landing-place was covered with woods, 
and behind every tree were three or four Indians who 
poured or showered their bullets upon us as thick as 
hailstones. As it was now sundown. General Arnold 
thought proper to give the signal of retreat to the 
other side of the river, so back we went. 

The English had drawn down their two field-pieces^^ 
to the shore and now began to play amongst us with 
them, which made our Indians fly with their birch 
canoes like so many devils; they do not like to see large 
balls skipping over the water, in and out until their 
force is lost, for a single one would knock their paper 
boats to pieces in a moment. 

On landing, as we were in sight of the enemy, a great 
number of fires were ordered to be kindled to make 
them suppose we were many in numbers, so about mid- 
night a flag of truce came over to capitulate with us, 
as they knew we intended to attack them the next morn- 
ing. They agreed to give up all their prisoners on con- 
dition that they should not be employed against them 
for, I think, the next seven months, and hostages were 
given by the Americans; that is, some of the officers 
were left in their possession, my captain (Bliss) among 
the rest. 

The next day they sent over the prisoners, — poor 
fellows, they looked as if they had been dragged by 
the heels for a hundred miles over the ground, — some- 
thing similar, I suppose, to those who were exchanged 
from the Jersey prison-ship by the English at New 
York. The Indians and the English acted very much 

11 See Note 22. 



alike, that is, without principle, only trying how badly 
they could treat those in their possession, little think- 
ing it would be our turn next to tickle them. 



[33] 



CHAPTER III 

Retreat from Canada to Ticonderoga ; regiment 
JOINS General Washington in New Jersey; 

BATTLE OF TrENTON ; GREENWOOD LEAVES THE 
ARMY 

THE enemy was now advancing from Quebec 
along either side of the river. As the majority 
of our men were sick with the smallpox, we 
made the best of our way back to Montreal for the 
purpose of retiring from it, and had been in the city 
but a few days when late one afternoon the order (24) 
came: "Retreat! retreat! the British are upon us!" 
Down we scampered to the boats, those of the sick who 
were not led from the hospital crawling after us. Camp 
equipage, kettles, and everything were abandoned in 
the utmost confusion — even the bread that was baking 
in the ovens — for we were glad to get away with whole 
skins. When half-way across the river it began to 
grow very dark, and down came the rain in drops the 
size of large peas, wetting our smallpox fellows, hud- 
dled together like cord-wood in the boats, and causing 
the death of many. 

It was a very cold rain, and as the boat struck the 
shore I, being but a boy and wet through and through, 
tried to take care of myself, at which I had a tolerable 
good knack, and so left the rest, dead and alive, to do 
the same. An old barn being near, I went in and soon 

[34] 



found that others had discovered the retreat as well as 
myself, and were lying on the floor close together like 
hogs, so I contentedly pigged it down with the rest, not 
knowing who they were nor caring if they had been 
devils so long as I could have got a warm berth among 
them. I had not been in the barn longer than to get 
warm, so as to smoke a little, when the officers came 

poking along, shouting: "Turn out, turn out, d 

you, and march to join the army at Longueuil ! Turn 
out or we will fire upon you!" Thinks I to myself, 
"Fire away!" However, we had to answer as they 
could not see us, and so said we were ready to march. 
Out we came into the rain and had to march three miles, 
half a leg deep in mud, to Longueuil, where General 
Arnold was mustering his scattered once-were-men. 
Looking around after reaching this place, I observed 
near by a windmill, into which I got unnoticed and, 
mounting to where the stones were, lay down and was 
only waked up at daybreak by the noise of the drums 
beating "to arms." Down I came out of the mill and 
at last found the remains of our regiment, the officers 
never questioning as to where I had been, for they al- 
ways had a good opinion of my bravery. 

General Arnold gathered together the priests and 
the friars and told them that if they did not imme- 
diately procure all the carts and wagons around the 
town, to carry the sick and what stores, etc., we had, 
he would set the place on fire. These conveyances 
were quickly brought and we marched on toward La 
Prairie. My party being in the rear we found, on 
reaching a bridge that lies between Longueuil and La 
Prairie, that it had been fired by the party which had 
marched before us, and consequently we had to march 
over it while in flames. The road ran alongside of the 
river opposite the city of Montreal, and we could 
plainly see the red-coated British soldiers on the 
other shore; so close were they upon us that, if we 

11353 



had not retreated as we did, all would have been pris- 
oners, for they were in numbers as six to our one, and 
we, moreover, nearly half dead with sickness and fa- 
tigue and lack of clothing, etc., etc. 

On the previous day our boats had landed at differ- 
ent places along shore on account of the strong current 
running in the river, and after the sick and lame had 
been taken out and left to shift for themselves in the 
rain during the night, these boats, according to orders, 
had been stove to pieces to prevent the enemy from 
securing them. As we now marched along, the sad 
sight of many a companion who had died from ex- 
posure met our gaze. The shore, moreover, was 
strewed with different things, such as Arnold's plunder 
from the city, for the fellow had consumed the fore 
part of the day on which we retreated in carrying over 
the river plunder of different kinds, such as wine, butter, 
raisins, etc., etc. We were obliged, however, to leave 
the best part of this and retreat to St. Johns, at the 
head of Lake Champlain, where we stopped for a few 
days to collect all our scattered soldiers together, pre- 
vious to crossing the lake, which is i8o miles long as 
I was informed. 

After a while we embarked in open boats and pro- 
ceeded toward Ticonderoga. On the route the rations, 
served out to us each day, consisted of a pint of flour 
and a quarter-pound of pork for every man, and to 
cook this we were allowed to land at noon. We were 
without camp-kettles or any utensils whatever to make 
bread in, and pretty kind of stuff was the preparation 
dignified by the latter term — mixed up with water from 
the lake, by fellows as lousy, itchy, and nasty as hogs, 
I have seen it, when made and baked upon a piece of 
bark, so black with dirt and smoke I do not think a dog 
could eat it. But with us it went down, lice, itch, and 
all, without any grumbling, while the pork was broiled 
on a wooden fork and the drippings caught by the beau- 

[1363 



tiful flour cakes. Such was the life of our Continental 
soldiers who went to Canada, and the sick among them 
fared not otherwise. As for myself, being a fife-major 
and a favorite with both officers and men, I fared a 
little better; moreover, though I was but a boy, I yet 
knew how to take care of myself. To cheer the men up 
I would often play them a tune, and having a constiturx 
tion like a horse, kept always lively and encouraging 
the sick, doing what was in my power for them as I had 
little else to do, never being called upon to row the 
boat or to do the least of fatigue duty. I slept, too, all 
night and was in heaven compared to any of them, 
though the best fare was bad enough for me. 

At last we arrived at Ticonderoga and four New 
England regiments, of which number ours was one, 
were ordered to make an encampment on Mt. Inde- 
pendence, a high mountain opposite Ticonderoga.^ 
This place was covered with thick woods and, being 
also very rocky, was filled with snakes of every descrip- 
tion, though mostly black and rattlesnakes. Had it 
been filled with devils, however, it would have made no 
difference to our soldiers, for they were proof against 
everything. After we had been there two or three 
months down came the British on the lake with a ship 
of twenty guns, brass 6-pounders, and ninety gunboats 
filled with men, to attack our little fleet of thirteen sail, 
consisting of a sloop, a schooner, three or four floating 
batteries, and other small craft. Arnold commanded 
the Mosquito Fleet, as it was called, and gave the enemy 
battle (October ii, etc., 1776), but was overpowered 
with numbers and obliged to retreat. 

While stationed on Mt. Independence plenty of cat- 
tle were driven to the camp, and, being fed constantly 
on fresh meat without a particle of salt to give it a 
relish, our soldiers at length got the flux (or camp dis- 

1 Connected by a floating bridge eighty rods long and twelve 
feet wide. 



temper) and died like rotten sheep, so that out of the 
500 men we had in our regiment upon entering Canada, 
but 100 were left when orders came, toward the close 
of November,^ for marching to Albany. I had the 
fever and ague, being sick for the first time, and what 
I suffered on the march cannot be described. With no 
tents to shelter us from the snow and rain, we were 
obliged to get through it as well as we could, and as to 
eating or cooking, you may put them out of the ques- 
tion; they who were with us know best about these 
things, others cannot believe the tenth part, so I will 
say nothing further on the subject. A great many 
things I have not related which are positive facts, as 
no one would be apt to give them credence unless he 
had beheld similar scenes. 

When we arrived at Albany (25) we were ordered 
on board vessels for Esopus (or Kingston), and 
thence proceeded, still without tents and some of our 
men without even shoes, over the mountains to a place 
called Newton, in Pennsylvania, passing on the way 
through Nazareth and Bethlehem.^ A day or two 
after reaching Newton we were paraded one afternoon 
to march and attack Trenton. If I recollect aright the 
sun was about half an hour high and shining brightly, 
but it had no sooner set than it began to drizzle or grow 
wet, and when we came to the river it rained. Every 
man had sixty rounds of cartridges served out to him, 
and as I then had a gun, as indeed every officer had, I 
put the number which I received, some in my pockets 
and some in my little cartridge-box. Over the river we 
then went in a flat-bottomed scow, and as I was with 

2 November 18, 1776. 

^ To this place, by order of General Washington under date of 
December 3, 1776, the general hospital was removed from Mor- 
ristown, and the sick and wounded found quarters in the seminary 
and the Sun Inn, Dr. John Warren being surgeon-general of the 
Continental Army. 



the first that crossed, we had to wait for the rest and 
so began to pull down the fences and make fires to 
warm ourselves, for the storm was increasing rapidly. 
After a while it rained, hailed, snowed, and froze, and 
at the same time blew a perfect hurricane; so much so 
that I perfectly recollect, after putting the rails on to 
burn, the wind and the fire would cut them in two in 
a moment, and when I turned my face toward the fire 
my back would be freezing. However, as my usual 
acuteness had not forsaken me, by turning round and 
round I kept myself from perishing before the large 
bonfire. The noise of the soldiers coming over and 
clearing away the ice, the rattling of the cannon wheels 
on the frozen ground, and the cheerfulness of my fel- 
low-comrades encouraged me beyond expression, and, 
big coward as I acknowledge myself to be, I felt great 
pleasure, more than I now do in writing about it. After 
our men had all crossed — and there were not, as I could 
see, more than 200 of us — we began an apparently cir- 
cuitous march, not advancing faster than a child ten 
years old could walk, and stopping frequently, though 
for what purpose I know not. During the whole night 
it alternately hailed, rained, snowed, and blew tremen- 
dously. I recollect very well that at one time, when we 
halted on the road, I sat down on the stump of a tree 
and was so benumbed with cold that I wanted to go to 
sleep ; had I been passed unnoticed I should have frozen 
to death without knowing it; but as good luck always at- 
tended me, Sergeant Madden came and, rousing me up, 
made me walk about. We then began to march again, 
just in the old slow way, until the dawn of day, about 
half-past seven in the morning. 

I have heard that we surprised the enemy; if we did, 
they must have been a lazy, indolent set of rascals, 
which is nothing to the credit of a regular army, as the 
English called themselves. But any who would even 
suppose such a thing must indeed be ignorant, when it 

1:393 



is well known that our whole country was filled with 
timid, designing tories and informers of all descrip- 
tions, and our march so slow that it was impossible but 
that they should be apprised of it.* It was likewise 
asserted at the same time that the enemy were all drunk; 
if they were, it shows there was no good discipline 
among those brave, regular troops. If they were 
drunk, I can swear we were all sober to a man ; not only 
sober, but nearly half dead with cold for the want of 
clothing, as, putting the storm to one side, many of our 
soldiers had not a shoe to their feet and their clothes 
were ragged as those of a beggar. I am certain not a 
drop of liquor was drunk during the whole night, nor, 
as I could see, even a piece of bread eaten, and I am 
willing to go upon oath that I did not see even a solitary 
drunken soldier belonging to the enemy, — and you will 
find, as I shall show, that I had an opportunity to be as 
good a judge as any person there. 

None but the first officers knew where we were going 
or what we were going about, for it was a secret expe- 
dition, and we, the bulk of the men coming from 
Canada, knew not the disposition of the army we were 
then in, nor anything about the country. This was not 
unusual, however, as I never heard soldiers say any- 
thing, nor ever saw them trouble themselves, as to 
where they were or where they were led. It was enough 
for them to know that wherever the officers commanded 
they must go, be it through fire and water, for it was 
all the same owing to the impossibility of being in a 
worse condition than their present one, and therefore 
the men always liked to be kept moving in expectation 
of bettering themselves. 

Between seven and eight o'clock, as we were march- 
ing near the town, the first intimation I received of our 

* The Hessian commander, Colonel Rahl, was informed through 
a tory living on the Pennington road, but the letter is said to have 
been found, unopened, in his pocket. 

1:40] 



going to fight was the firing of a 6-pound cannon at us, 
the ball from which struck the fore horse that was 
dragging our only piece of artillery, a 3-pounder. The 
animal, which was near me as I was in the second divi- 
sion on the left, was struck in its belly and knocked over 
on its back. While it lay there kicking the cannon was 
stopped and I did not see it again after we had passed 
on. As we advanced, it being dark and stormy so that 
we could not see very far ahead, we got within 200 
yards of about 300 or 400 Hessians who were paraded, 
two deep, in a straight line with Colonel Roll (Rail or 
Rahl), their commander, on horseback, to the right of 
them. They made a full fire at us, but I did not see 
that they killed any one. Our brave Major Sherburne 
ordered us to fall back about 300 yards and pull off 
our packs, which we accordingly did and piled them by 
the roadside. "Now, my boys," says he, "pass the 
word through the ranks that he who is afraid to follow 
me, let him stay behind and take care of the packs!" 
Not a man offered to leave the ranks, and as we never 
went back that way, we all lost our packs: at least I 
never heard anything of mine, and I had in it a beau- 
tiful suit of blue clothes, turned up with white and 
silver laced. As we had been in the storm all night we 
were not only wet through and through ourselves, but 
our guns and powder were wet also, so that I do not 
believe one would go off, and I saw none fired by our 
party. When we were all ready we advanced, and, 
although there was not more than one bayonet to five 
men, orders were given to "Charge bayonets and rush 
on !" and rush on we did. Within pistol-shot they again 
fired point-blank at us; we dodged and they did not hit 
a man, while before they had time to reload we were 
within three feet of them, when they broke in an instant 
and ran like so many frightened devils into the town, 
which was at a short distance, we after them pell-mell. 
Some of the Hessians took refuge in a church at the 

[141] 



\ 



door of which we stationed a guard to keep them in, 
and taking no further care of them for the present, 
advanced to find more, for many had run down into the 
cellars of the houses. I passed two of their cannon 
(26), brass 6-pounders, by the side of which lay seven 
dead Hessians and a brass drum. This latter article 
was, I remember, a great curiosity to me and I stopped 
to look at it, but it was quickly taken possession of by 
one of our drummers, who threw away his own instru- 
ment. At the same time I obtained a sword from one 
of the bodies, and we then ran on to join the regiment, 
which was marching down the main street toward the 
market. Just before we reached this building, how- 
ever. General Washington, on horseback and alone, 
came up to our major and said, "March on, my brave 
fellows, after me !" and rode off. 

After passing a number of dead and wounded Hes- 
sians we reached the other side of the town and on our 
right beheld about 500 or 600 of the enemy paraded, 
two deep, in a field. At the time we were marching in 
grand divisions which filled up the street, but as we got 
opposite the enemy we halted and, filing off two deep, 
marched right by them, — yes, and as regular as a Prus- 
sian troop. When we had reached the end of their 
line we were ordered to wheel to the right, which 
brought us face to face six feet apart, at which time, 
though not before, I discovered they had no guns. 
They had been taken prisoners by another party and 
we had marched between them and their guns, which 
they had laid down. A few minutes afterward a num- 
ber of wagons came behind us, into which the guns were 
placed, and the next thing ordered was to disarm the 
prisoners of their swords, with one of which every man 
was provided ; these we also put in the wagons, but com- 
pelled the enemy to carry their cartridge-boxes them- 
selves. Our regiment was then ordered to conduct 
them down to the ferry and transport them over to the 

1:42] 



i 



other side, so we began the march, guarding the flanks 
or sides of the road. 

The Hessian prisoners, who were all grenadiers, 
numbered about 900. I saw also a party of 300 or 400 
who had got off,^ but how they did it I could not con- 
ceive. The scow, or flat-bottomed boat which was used 
in transporting them over the ferry, was half a leg 
deep with rain and snow, and some of the poor fellows 
were so cold that their underjaws quivered like an 
aspen leaf. On the march down to the boats, seeing 
some of our men were much pleased with the brass caps 
which they had taken from the dead Hessians, our 
prisoners, who were besides exceedingly frightened,*^ 
pulled off those that they were wearing, and, giving 
them away, put on the hats which they carried tied be- 
hind their packs. With these brass caps on it was 
laughable to see how our soldiers would strut, — fel- 
lows with their elbows out and some without a collar 
to their half-a-shirt, no shoes, etc. 

The next day (December 27, 1776), being two days 
after our time was out, we received three months' pay, 
— and glad was I. We were offered twenty-six dollars''' 
to stay six weeks longer, but as I did not enlist for the 
purpose of remaining in the army, but only through 
necessity, as I could not get to my parents In Boston, I 
was determined to quit as soon as my time was out.^ 

^ Some of the infantry and light horse fled on the first alarm to 
Bordentown. 

^ They had been told that the Americans were a "race of canni- 
bals who would not only tomahawk a poor Hessian and haul off 
his hide for a drum'k head, but would just as leave barbecue and 
eat him as they would a pig." 

' This probably refers to Greenwood himself and the ensigncy he 
would have received. 

* Dr. Benjamin Rush writes, December 21, 1776, to R. H. Lee, 
Esq., a fellow member of Congress, "that the four eastern states 
will find great difficulty in raising their quota of men, owing to 
that excessive rage for privateering which now prevails among 
them, etc." ("American Archives," Series 5, Vol. Ill, p. 1512.) 

C433 



As our captain had been taken prisoner at the Cedars, 
I told my lieutenant (Edward Cumston) that I was 
going home. "My God I" says he, "you are not, I 
hope, going to leave us, for you are the life and soul 
of us and are to be promoted to an ensign." I told him 
I would not stay to be a colonel. I had the itch then 
so bad that my breeches stuck to my thighs, all the skin 
being off, and there were hundreds of vermin upon me, 
owing to a whole month's march and having been 
obliged, for the sake of keeping warm, to lie down at 
night among the soldiers who were huddled close to- 
gether like hogs. 

Leonard Parks, ^ a young fifer-boy, and myself set 
off to cross the river for Newton. We were both sick, 
and I from weakness could hardly put one foot before 
the other, yet we trudged along together, with one 
blanket, expecting to reach Boston, the route we had to 
take being about 350 miles. I had thirty-three paper 
dollars and he had twenty-four, as my wages, being fife- 
major, were eleven dollars and his eight. After we 
had crossed the ferry and traveled about half a mile, 
two mounted officers were seen coming toward us who 
stopped to speak, when who should one of them prove 
to be but my own Captain Bliss, who had been taken in 
Canada by the Indians. "My God!" says I, "how 
came you here?" He said he had been released at 
Quebec, came on by water to Philadelphia, and was now 
going home. He was a very pleasant, good-natured 

^ L. Parks, of Lincoln, was fifer in 1775 to Captain Nathan 
Fuller's company, Lieutenant-Colonel William Band's (late Colo- 
nel Gardner's) 37th Regiment of Foot. He reenlisted in one of the 
Massachusetts regiments in 1776 and was on service at times, 
1777-8, as fifer in the militia company of Captain Samuel Farrar, 
of Lincoln, Colonel Eleazor Brook's regiment. Parks was living {^ 

at Cambridge, Massachusetts (half a mile from the bridge) in 
November, 1816, at which time his son, twenty-three years of age, 
had just returned from the East Indies after an absence of five 
years. (Family letters, etc.) 

1:443 



i 

4 



man, had always treated me like a father, and was now 
very glad to see me. I told him I was very sick, was 
returning home if I could only reach there, and begged 
him to give me his horse, informing him that, as it was 
nearly good for nothing, lie could get a fine one in 
Trenton, where there were plenty running about the 
streets. He said he had no money, and if I would give 
him eleven dollars for the horse I might have him. To 
this I agreed, and the captain, taking off the saddle 
and bridle and putting them upon his own shoulders, 
bade me good-by and left me with my purchase. 

"Well," said I, "we have got a horse but no saddle 
or bridle." There stood the animal, hearing what we 
had to say of him, and riding him was out of the ques- 
tion, for we were quite sensitive in those parts which 
were to come in contact with his back, — such a back, 
too, as sharp as a knife. So I left him with Parks to 
be careful that he did not run away while I went to a 
farm-house near by to try and get a saddle and bridle. 
I do not think, however, there was need of any fear as 
to our steed's escaping, for he looked as if he had never 
run in his lifetime, and Don Quixote's Rosinante was 
a fool compared to him in leanness, — although his hair 
was thick you could count every rib, — nevertheless he 
was fierce enough for us who were no horsemen. 

When I reached the farm-house I told my story and 
begged the gift of any kind of an old saddle. With 
some hemming and hawing the person who lived there 
told me he had one and sent a boy to bring it. It 
proved to be an old Dutch saddle, which, made in 
Noah's ark, had been in use ever since, to judge from 
its appearance. As there were no stirrups the man 
rigged up two ropes to answer in their place, and 
gave me an additional piece of rope to tie around 
the animal's neck for a bridle, charging me two dol- 
lars for the whole. Thus was I fitted out, with my 
Hessian brass-handled sword with its two tassels and 

i:4s3 



my war-horse which was to carry two of us for 350 
miles. 

As the horse was mine I told Parks he should share 
it with me and we would ride tie and tie; that is, I 
would ride it two miles, and, tying it in the road, walk 
on, and when he came up he would mount and overtake 
me; thus would we go on as far as the horse would 
carry us, paying for his feed between us. I mounted 
him first and set off, but the rope stirrups hurting my 
feet, I had to bear all of my weight upon my body, 
and, being very sore thereabouts, you may depend I 
had no very pleasant time of it. When I got off I could 
hardly stand, but I tied the horse to a post and crawled 
on half bent and very sore from the old Dutch saddle, 
which was as hard as iron. In this way we kept on for 
three or four days, when at last poor Parks gave out 
and could go no farther, so I was left alone. On 1 
went, sometimes riding, sometimes walking, and finally, 
near sundown, drew up my horse at a point where two 
roads diverged at a small angle. Neither was much 
beaten, and, no house being near, I took the one I 
thought best, which led me through a thick wood out 
upon a swamp or meadow. Here my horse stopped 
and would go no farther — it was about eight o'clock at 
night and dark as pitch — so I got off and began to bang 
him, but he would turn around and go another way. 
"Well," thinks I, "you may go which way you will; PU 
follow." So on we went for an hour longer through 
the woods, the wolves, foxes, or some other creatures 
making different bowlings or noises. I had seen too 
much danger to be afraid of these, however, and be- 
sides my horse was a great deal of company, though I 
will confess that in my present quandary I had quite for- 
gotten about my ailments. After traveling an hour and 
a half longer I saw an opening before me, and then a 
rail fence which I followed until I came to a small 
farm-house. 

n463 



In I went and the people were very glad to see me, 
for they had a son in the army and were delighted with 
my description of the battle of Trenton, where we had 
but two or three men kilkd in the whole affray and 
took upward of 900 prisoners. I was given a supper 
of mush and milk and a blanket to lie down on by the 
fireside, and, rising early to proceed on my journey, the 
people told me I had missed my road, and, carrying 
through the fields, showed me the right one. I bade 
them good-by and continued onward with my old horse, 
nothing material happening to me until my arrival at 
a place called King's Ferry^*^ on the west side of the 
Hudson or North River, in the State of New York. 
Here I was detained three or four days as the river 
was filled with large cakes of ice; these, however, at 
last parted in such a way as to leave an opening for the 
ferry-boat to venture across. The boat had four or five 
horses in it, besides being filled with passengers, and 
we just got across in time to jump out, for a large cake 
of ice, near half a mile long, coming down with the tide, 
struck the boat and carried it some distance down the 
river. Some of the horses, I recollect, were then in her, 
but whether I got mine out or not I have forgotten. 
This much I do remember, however, that I traveled 
home on foot from the east side of the North River. 
When I arrived at my father's house in Boston the 
first thing done was to bake my clothes and then to 
anoint me all over with brimstone. 

I had then been in the army twenty months and had 
received during that time only six months' pay for all 
my services; I have never asked nor applied to Con- 
gress for the residue since, and I never shall. 

^^ Communication was kept up by means of flatboats with Ver- 
planck's Point on the eastern side; "it was the main crossing place 
of troops moving between the Eastern and Middle States." 



1:473 



CHAPTER IV 
Sails with Captain Manley in the CumberljnD; 

A PRISONER in THE BaRBADOES; RELEASE AND 
RETURN HOME 

A FTER I had been home two or three months,^ 
/-% I began to feel uneasy and wanted to go to sea, 
-*- -^ so one day I went down on board a privateer- 
ship of eighteen 6-pounders, called the Cumberland, 
and commanded by that great fighting man, Commo- 
dore Manley. The crew was composed of 130 men, 
and I, then seventeen years of age,^ entered as the 
steward's mate and acted as midshipman. Our inten- 
tion was to cruise off the island of Barbadoes and inter- 
cept the outwardbound West Indian fleet of merchant- 
men. On the voyage we fell in with a large ship which 
had become dismasted in a gale of wind while running 
from St. Johns, Newfoundland, to Halifax, Nova 
Scotia, and was, when we came up with her, rolling 
about like a hogshead, keel out. She had on board a 
number of British soldiers, some clothing, and wine. 
These latter articles were taken out, a prize-master^ 

1 As before stated in the Introduction (p. xvi), there is a lapse of 
two years in the narrative, Captain Manley having sailed from 
Boston early in 1779. 

2 Should be "nineteen years of age." 

^ The prize, a transport with recruits for the Nova Scotia vol- 
unteers, was recaptured, when close to Martinique, by the Venus, 
36, Captain William P. Williams. 

[48:] 



appointed, and, having rigged up jury-masts, the vessel 
was sent to Martinique. This was in the year 1779 
(sic). A few days after taking the prize we saw the 
island of Barbadoes and sailed near enough to see three 
signal flagstaffs at Bridge Town or Carlisle Bay. It 
was late in the afternoon, so we 'bout ship and stood 
off from the land with our head to the eastward, under 
easy sail all night, in expectation of seeing a prize in 
the morning. 

About seven o'clock the next day (circa January 26, 
1779)5 ^ vessel was seen bearing down toward us with 
steering-sails set below and aloft; we likewise set all 
sail upon a wind and stood for her, running in a short 
time close under her larboard quarter. She proved 
to be the Pomona, frigate, thirty-six guns, 9- and 12- 
pounders, etc., 300 men, and as we had only eighteen 
guns, 130 men, we were obliged to try and make our 
escape. The frigate quickly took in her steering-sails, 
hauled her wind, and stood after us, but we held her a 
good tug all day until nine o'clock at night, firing at 
each other during the chase. One very singular circum- 
stance happened during the day. The captain of the 
maintop came down into the cockpit for a drink, and as 
he turned to go back observed that he was certain he 
should never come down again alive, and it was but a 
few minutes after he reached the top that a double- 
headed shot cut him right in half. Sometimes the ships 
would be within musket-shot of each other, at other 
times a quarter of a mile apart, depending altogether 
upon the wind, which was squally; had it been a mod- 
erate breeze we should have got clear from them. As 
night came on it began to blow harder, so the captain 
thought it best to throw overboard eight of our guns, 
start some of the water, and clap the ship away three 
points free. This was no sooner done than the frigate, 
being right in our wake and within short distance, kept 
her course, and, shooting close up under our larboard 

[149] 



quarter, gave us four or five double-headed and round 
shot. Some flew among our rigging and one ball, strik- 
ing us abaft the fore-chains, went through and through 
the ship, making her shake again. For some minutes 
we both lay quiet, the captain of the frigate ordering 
us to "strike your d d rebel colors," which I, how- 
ever, think looked fully as good as their own. At this 
time we had no national colors, and every ship had the 
right, or took it, to wear what kind of fancy flag the 
captain pleased. Our flag I will describe, as I think it 
a very singular one. First it was a very large white 
flag with a pine-tree, painted green (27), in the middle 
of it, and under the tree the representation of a large 
snake, painted black, coiled into thirteen coils and cut 
into thirteen pieces, emblematical of the thirteen United 
States; then under that the motto "Join or Die" was 
written in large black letters. 

During the interval in which they were damning our 
flag and threatening to sink us, all hands were called 
aft to arm themselves with swords and pistols for 
boarding. Both vessels were then under steerageway 
and very near each other, and as our ship was to lee- 
ward of the Pomona, Captain Manley intended to clap 
the helm down and so let the frigate run her head or 
bow right amidships of us. In this event the Cumber- 
land would have been sunk, and he who got out on 
board the frigate first would be best fellow. I presume 
we would have had a pretty tight scratch of it, for we 
had 130 picked men and not a sick one on board; I 
looked upon us as a match for their 300, and am con- 
fident we would have overpowered them, taking them 
as we should have unexpectedly. But the misfortune 
of it was that, on opening the arm-chests, not more than 
thirty cutlasses and a few miserable pikes were found, 
so the captain gave it up and ordered the colors to be 
struck. This was no sooner done than the sailors 
rushed to the store-room, got out the liquor by pails- 

C503 






iff' >^#^'ivV*^ 






j v^ virus \^. .^ ^4.ra.-K.^ 






^^ .^ 












I 



ful, and became as drunk as so many devils. The regi- 
mental red coats of the British soldiers, which we had 
taken on our prize, were stowed away in the bread 
room; these also the sailors got at, for all was now 
good plunder, and rigged out in them, some too long 
and some too short, with shirt collars thrown open, 
tarry trousers, and all different manner of phizes, it 
would have made a saint laugh to see the men tumbling 
about. 

Meanwhile the frigate kept constantly hailing us to 
hoist out our boat and bring the captain on board, 
threatening to sink us if we did not obey; but as all dis- 
cipline was now at an end not a sailor would get down 
the tackles. At last the petty officers made out to lower 
the small jolly-boat and our captain and two men went 
aboard the frigate, but had no sooner left their boat 
than it was dashed against the frigate's main-chains 
and stove to pieces, for the sea was running very high 
at the time. The Pomona was obliged to get out her 
long-boat to take off our men, numbers of whom were 
now lying about the deck in their long red coats, dead 
drunk. When the British officer came aboard he ex- 
claimed: "D your bloods! I believe you are all 

soldiers. Come, come, tumble into the boat and be 

d d to you! Bear a hand!" Some attempted to 

get in, others were taken up and thrown into the boat 
like dead hogs. I could not refrain from laughing, for 
I do not think I ever saw so funny a sight. 

I tied up a few pounds of chocolate, a little sugar, 
and some biscuit In a handkerchief, put some clothes in 
a small bag, and jumped into the boat with the rest. As 
soon as we were on board the frigate we were mustered 
on the quarter-deck and the master-at-arms was or- 
dered to search us and take away all our knives. He 
obeyed his order punctually and with precision, for he 
took good care to secure everything else that we had 
in our pockets. A young midshipman with a very de- 

no 



mure, innocent-looking face came up to me and told 
me to give my things into his charge, as he would take 
good care of them for me; he did so, for I never saw 
them again. Well, after having been plundered of 
everything, we were driven into the lower hold, among 
the cables, water-casks, and the devil knows what, for it 
was as dark as pitch and as hot as an oven. Here we 
were stowed so close that we had no room to stand, sit, 
or lie, except partly on each other, for with the excep- 
tion of the captain, doctor, first and second lieutenants, 
and captain's clerk, we had all, officers and men, to the 
number of 125, been placed indiscriminately together. 
The sailors, being for the most part drunk, were soon 
snoring, but I could not sleep, could in fact scarcely 
breathe owing to the excessive heat, as we were now 
in the West India climate. Presently I ventured to 
climb up a post that had notches in it, and sat down on 
the edge of the hatchway, which was open, to get a 
little air. I soon found the sentry to be asleep, however, 
so passed by him and, groping my way to the scuttle 
leading to the boatswain's store-room, down I went. 
As I was descending I put my foot, I presume, upon a 
rolled up steering-sail, but at the time I thought it was a 
dead man and that a number of them had been put there 
so that the funeral services might be said over them on 
the morrow, preparatory to launching them overboard. 
What made me think this was that we had had a fair 
chance all day, at times, to fire our stern-chasers plump 
into her forecastle, — in short, if we had not cut away 
her rigging as we did, she would have taken us before. 
You may imagine that I scampered up the hole faster 
than I went down and resumed my seat on the edge 
or combings of the hatchway, near the sentry who was 
still asleep. Although I knew that he would drive me 
down into the hold again if I woke him up, and perhaps 
run his bayonet through me, I pitied him, knowing that 
if caught asleep on his post he would be whipped, re- 



celving from one to two hundred lashes, so I ran the 
risk and awakened him. The first words he said were : 
"For God's sake, go down into the hold !" I begged 
him to let me sit there awhile, but he said it was as much 
as his life was worth to do it, and that I must go down, 
so down I went into the oven again and toughed it out 
with the rest of them without a drop of water to cool our 
tongues. Neither did we have a drop until the next day at 
eleven o'clock. Judge for yourself how dry and thirsty 
the majority of our men must have been, who were so 
confoundedly drunk when first put down into the hold. 
The next day was what is called "banyan-day," that 
is, the whole ship's crew have a pea-soup without 
meat for dinner. At eleven o'clock they gave us 
some water to drink which was slimy and stank as 
badly as excrement, and at noon the cook, or some other 
devil, came to the hatchway with a large tub of boiled 
peas, as thin as water. At this time as many as could 
get there were crowded under the hatchway to get a 
little breath of air, so the old fellow, as he lowered the 
tub down, cried out: "Hello, below there! Clear the 

way ! Scaldings, scaldings, and be d d to you, my 

boys !" As soon as the tub was down every one who 
could get nigh tried to obtain some of the peas, but we 
had nothing either to put them in or to dip them out 
with, so at last they lent us a tin pot, when we were a 
little better off. With the peas they gave us some 
broken biscuit full of worm holes, which was in fact 
the mere shadow of bread. As I had nothing to get the 
peas in I took my hat, knocked the crown in with my 
fist, and receiving some of the mess in the rude bowl 
thus formed, ate it out with my mouth like a hog when 
it was cool. Thus were we treated for three or four 
days, remaining all the while in the ship's hold, until our 
arrival^ in Barbadoes harbor (28), when we were mus- 
tered on deck to be transported ashore. 

* January 29, 1779. 

1:533 



When we were landed and were going up to the 
prison,^ the negro slaves were permitted to throw stones 
at us; which they did, saying: "There goes the New 
Gengelan (England) men that used to fetch fish here 
for us with one eye," meaning split mackerel; for when 
herrings were dealt out to them they received a whole 
one, but they never had more than half a mackerel at 
a time, as they were a larger fish. We were now con- 
ducted into the prison yard, which was surrounded by 
walls on the top of which had been placed broken bot- 
tles mixed with mortar, to prevent any person get- 
ting over. Here we were kept, under a hot sun, from 
noon until sundown, when they told us we must all go 
down into the dungeon. This we did although we had not 
received a mouthful to eat during the whole day. Some 
Spanish and French prisoners whom they had, were per- 
mitted to be kept in the upper rooms, but as we were 
called "rebels" they chose to punish us more severely. 

Our dungeon consisted of three apartments connected 
together, the floors of which were nothing but mud 
and clay, and, on account of the heavy rains prevalent 
in the West Indies, the water had settled in the center 
of these to the depth of two inches. Every part of the 
place was at times wet and damp, yet here on the 
ground we were obliged to lie, having been robbed of 
everything except what we had on our backs. We had 
nothing to eat until the next day, when each man re- 
ceived some meat and three potatoes, though my 
share of the former article I could have swallowed in 
two mouthfuls. No bread was furnished us, nor do 
I recollect that they gave us a particle during the five 
months we were kept on the island. 

^ The common jail at Bridgetown, in which prisoners of war 
were confined, was destroyed in the hurricane of October lO, 1780. 
The Government had made no provision for maintaining the pris- 
oners, and the governor of the island, the Honorable Edward Hay, 
advanced considerable sums for their support. 

1:543 



An amusing circumstance occurred when we were 
first put in the dungeon, which I will now relate. We 
had among us a boatswain whose name was Jack Brady ; 
he was a very cross, severe man when on board, and 
as he would often strike the seamen unnecessarily, they 
owed him a grudge. When we had all fairly got down 
into the place, which was as dark as pitch, one fellow 
called out for Jack Brady, and as soon as he answered 
to his name, some one knocked him down, which pres- 
ently brought on a general battle, for he would strike 
out indiscriminately. Thus, keeping it up and passing 
the blows round, they would knock each other over into 
the water until, what with bloody noses, mud, and clay, 
they were besmeared all over. 

The next day we were all mustered out into the 
prison yard to undergo an examination, as they intended 
to pick out as many of our fellows as they pleased and 
put them on board the different men-of-war then lying 
in the harbor. The yard was filled with people who 
came from curiosity to see the "rebels," for many of 
them were fools enough to think we were a different 
kind of animal from themselves. (If we were not we 
must have been miserable creatures indeed, for the 
Creoles, as they are called, are a poor set of shabby 
fellows; I mean the lower class.) As we had been in- 
formed by the turnkeys that the oflicers were coming 
to distribute us through the fleet, five or six of us had, 
during the night, tried to break through the wall and 
make our escape into the town; but just as we had 
nearly accomplished our design, the patrol discovered 
us and we were obliged to stop. I then determined to 
try another scheme to prevent myself alone from being 
taken away, for I had rather have stayed where I was 
than go on board a man-of-war. When we were called 
out Into the yard on the morrow, such a spectacle as our 
men presented was, I presume, never seen, — blood and 
dirt from head to heels, some with their eyes and some 

1:553 



with their noses swelled up, etc. They selected sixty- 
odd of us, myself among the rest, and then drove us 
all together down into the dungeon again, saying they 
meant to take us away the next day at eleven o'clock. 
On the succeeding day, at ten o'clock, I called to our 
doctor, who had the liberty of the yard, and told him I 
wanted an emetic, which I meant to take to prevent my 
being carried on board a man-of-war. The doctor 
had been allowed to keep his medicine-chest, so he got 
me what I wanted, and I took it, but as it did not work 
readily and the drums had begun to beat, I asked the 
doctor for another dose. He gave it to me and I swal- 
lowed it immediately. In a few minutes, and just as the 
soldiers who were coming after us marched into the 
prison yard, the emetic I had taken began to operate. I 
thought I should have thrown up my entrails and shall 
never forget how sick I was. Two lackeys or turn- 
keys dragged me out of the dungeon and supported me 
between them, for I could hardly stand, while the others 
were driven out. As I was very young I had been 
chosen by a particular officer who, however, did not 
now recognize me, and on being told upon inquiry where 
I was, he reprimanded the turnkeys severely for their 
usage, etc., and left me. Sixty-odd of us were taken 
away and the remainder returned to the dungeon, where 
for about a month we stayed, starving in the old way, 
before anything material happened. 

The captain, doctor, lieutenant, and captain's clerk 
were not confined in the dungeon, but were allowed 
their liberty night and day. In the middle of the small 
grate which admitted air and a little light to our apart- 
ment was an ironwood support, and the doctor one eve- 
ning gave me a small saw to remove this with. As the 
instrument, however, had a brass back, being such a 
one as is used to take off limbs with, there yet remained 
about an inch only of the wood which we could not get 
through after sawing upon each side of the post, and 

1:563 



we were therefore obliged to relinquish our design of 
getting out. The plan was concocted by Captain Man- 
ley and communicated only to a few of us petty officers, 
as it would have been dangerous for the whole of us 
to attempt escaping at one time. The captain had pro- 
cured ropes and constructed a ladder to throw over the 
prison wall, by which means we were to effect our escape 
into the town. Our part of the plan failed as I have 
related, but Captain Manley, the doctor, lieutenant, 
and clerk succeeded In reaching the town, and although 
a number of men-of-war and other vessels were lying 
in the harbor, they took a schooner and, running 
through the whole of them, got off clear. The saw was 
so thin that the jail keeper never found out that we had 
attempted to make our escape, and we were treated 
pretty much in the same old way; but after a confine- 
ment of about four months and a half in the dungeon 
they put us into one of the upper rooms; I think there 
were perhaps sixty of us left out of the original one 
hundred and twenty-five (29). 

One night we heard a great noise outside, and on 
going to the window to look down in the yard of the 
prison where the alarm drum was beating, we saw, as 
it was moonlight, the whole place filled with people of 
all descriptions. Of these some were armed with guns 
and others with swords, clubs, and even spits, and they 
all appeared to be very courageous and ready to attack 
poor, unarmed, half-starved prisoners; it would have 
made you laugh to see them and to hear the threats 
which they used toward us. All this bustle and con- 
fusion, however, was occasioned by some thirty Spanish 
prisoners*' who were in a room above us, a quarrel 
among them having ended in their fighting and stab- 
bing each other with their knives. Mr. Callender, the 
prison keeper, opened the front door and let the mob 

^ About this time Don Pedro de San Jago's Spanish Regiment 
of Aragon was here confined. 



into the entry, or hall, which led to our room. I must 
observe that the doors of the rooms in the West India 
prison are not solid, but made like a grate, with iron, so 
as to give air, the holes or squares being big enough to 
put your head through. The mob, thinking we were 
trying to escape, surrounded our door and, had the 
jailer permitted them to have got in, I really believe 
they would have killed some of us. 

Determined to sell our lives as dear as possible we 
prepared to meet them. We first brought close up to 
the door a half-barrel or tub which had been placed in 
the room for the accommodation of several of our men 
who were at the time very sick, and five or six of us 
stood ready with tin pots to greet the enemy if they at- 
tempted to unlock the door. We were likewise armed 
with black or junk-bottles which, holding by the necks, 
we intended to dash against the grated door so that 
the fragments would fly among them. They saw 
our warlike preparations and when we stirred up 
our ammunition, afraid of catching the jail-distemper 
and almost suffocated, they soon left the doorway clear, 
— we were used to it, however, and did not mind it. So 
you see these brave, daring fellows were fairly driven 
off without even the smell of gunpowder or the appear- 
ance of a single weapon. They then went up-stairs 
where the Spanish prisoners were, but dared not enter 
the room, and Mr. Callender thereupon opened our 
door, after inquiring if we would venture among the 
combatants to quell them. Up we went, without arms, 
and soon quieted them, and taking the ring-leader, or 
head of the disturbance, who was then stabbed in the 
breast with a knife, shut the door and brought him 
down. The jail keeper put him in irons, hands and 
feet, and placing a heavy chain around his neck, drew 
his head down close to his feet, which brought him al- 
most double like a ball, as it were. He was then thrown 



into what they called the "dark hole," — bad enough 
you may depend. 

A short time after this last event happened we were 
informed that a cartel, or vessel to release us, had been 
sent from Martinique, a French island. We were ac- 
cordingly conducted on board, carried to the island, 
and landed at Port St. Pierre (30). 

When put on shore I had neither hat, coat, shoes, nor 
stockings, and only half a pair of trousers, half a shirt, 
and about half a pound of pork which I carried in the 
bosom of it. I walked alone away from the houses 
along the beach, and pulled off my wardrobe; washed 
that first and laid it on the sand to dry, and then pro- 
ceeded to do the same by my own self. As I was thus 
engaged, with my head to the land, I heard a voice hal- 
looing: "Jack! Jack Greenwood ! Here, my boy, come 
out of the water." I did not at first even look around, 
supposing it was one of my fellow prisoners. As my 
intention was to enter on board a French privateer- 
schooner which was then lying in the harbor, I felt my- 
self entirely independent. (This I always did feel, 
however, and can safely say I never have been what is 
called melancholy or dissatisfied, but always took things 
as they came; good and bad, of course, were the same 
to me, and are so now.) Well, I turned around and 

saw an old schoolmate of mine, J. D e, who was 

mate of a Boston brig then lying in the harbor and 

commanded by my father's cousin, Captain W ^w.'^ 

D e, who is now captain of a vessel belonging to 

this port and resides here with his family, soon con- 
ducted me on board the brig, where I was made wel- 
come. After a few days, during which time I had been 

"^ Probably (Isaac) Winslow; a captain of this name commanded 
in 1777 the schooner Anna, belonging to Mr. Samuel Pitts, running 
from Boston to Martinique, and the Newport Mercury of May 
27, 1780, announces arrival of Captain Winslow on the 20th, at 
Boston, in twenty-two days from Dominica, a small island between 
Guadeloupe and Martinique. 

CS9 3 



on and off shore occasionally, I was taken quite sick and 
full of pains, owing, I presume, to a different course of 
living. The doctor came on board and bled me and, 
with my vigorous constitution, I soon recovered. 

Captain W w procured me a passage homeward, 

to a place called Piscataway,^ about sixty miles east of 
Boston, and to defray my expenses in reaching the lat- 
ter place when I should have arrived he likewise gave 
me a tierce of molasses. I went on board the brig 
which was commanded by one Captain Roach of Piscat- 
away, as big a villain as ever I saw, and I have had an 
opportunity of seeing many. The vessel was very leaky 
and badly provided with everything, sails, rigging, 
provisions, etc., nevertheless I was glad of an oppor- 
tunity to reach home soon, for I wanted to get at the 
enemy again and pay them off the old score. On our 
passage home the pumps were kept going all the time, 
and this, together with the working of the vessel, fairly 
wore the men out, so that, what with bad treatment, 
the yellow fever, and all together, nearly the whole 
crew died. I was pretty well seasoned to all manner 
of complaints, as I had served a good apprenticeship 
in the prison, and therefore I stood the voyage toler- 
ably well; the want of provisions I was used to and did 
not mind. 

When off New York, or rather the south side of Long 
Island, in latitude about forty degrees north, we were 
espied one day by a privateer-sloop. Our vessel had a 
deep waist with port-holes for guns but did not mount 
any, so while the enemy was chasing and reconnoitering 
us, I made five or six wooden guns from some pieces 
of joist by spiking them together and roughly chopping 
into shape. I then nailed a piece of board on the back 
of them, opened the port-holes, and fastened them on 
the inside, — at a distance they looked like guns. We 
then got dirty blankets up into the fore and maintops 

^ In the vicinity of Portsmouth, New Hampshire. 

ceo] 



for top armor, and nailing a piece of board across some 
handspikes for arms, we placed our jackets on them to 
make it appear as though we had a number of men on 
board. When cleverly fixed we shortened sail and hove 
our maintopsail to the mast, although there was not 
a gun on board to my remembrance. The privateer 
then ventured to come a little closer, though still keep- 
ing at quite a respectable distance, we meanwhile walk- 
ing between and passing our effigies or false men, so 
that at last the enemy got afraid of us, hauled his wind, 
and went off. 

In a few days we arrived at our destined port, at a 
time when the famous Penobscot expedition was fit- 
ting out from Boston. An officer from the United 
States ship-of-war Hampden,^ then lying in the harbor 
of Piscataway, was soon alongside of our brig to press 
men for the expedition, but when he came on board 
and found some of our crew sick and dying, he flew 
from us like a bird and left us. At one time a sailor 
who lay in his hammock next to me caught hold of my 
left arm while I was asleep and tore the wristband from 
my shirt. I awoke and in a moment dealt him such a 
blow with my right that he let go, — poor fellow, he 
was dying but I did not know it. 

I went on shore, sold my tierce of molasses, and 
traveled home on foot. No emperor or king could feel 
so happy as I then was, and there is a good and true 
saying that no person ever knows what happiness or 
pleasure is without first seeing adversity. Even in ad- 
versity there is pleasure, which exists chiefly in our dis- 
positions, or rather in the virtue of contentment. As 

® The New Hampshire ship Hampden, 22, Captain Salter, and 
the Massachusetts ship Hunter, 20, Captain Brown, were the only 
two vessels of the expedition secured, August 14, 1779, by the 
enemy's squadron under Sir George Collier. The rest were all 
burned or blown up by the Americans, including the United States 
frigate Warren, 32, on which their commodore, Captain Dudley 
Saltonstall, had hoisted his striped flag and broad pennant. 



this is not the gift of every one, there are many who 
find fault even with the all-bountiful God, whereas did 
they but pay a little attention they would quickly find 
out that the cause of all their pretended troubles lies 
in themselves alone. Whoever reads these lines which 
I have hastily written will, I hope, profit by them; learn 
to be ever contented, as it is always against you to be 
otherwise, and never be the cause of awakening dis- 
content in others. Always suffer yourself rather than 
offend another; this I well know is, as it were, an impos- 
sible thing, yet nevertheless we may in a measure miti- 
gate our faults, which it is in the nature of every one 
to have, — he that is without them, as the Scriptures say, 
let him heave the first stone. 



C 6^ 1 L 



CHAPTER V 

Sails with Captain D. Porter in the Tartar; 
many prizes taken; vessel sinks at port-au- 

PrINCE; RETURNS IN THE GENERAL LINCOLN, 

Captain J. Carnes; is captured and taken to 
New York; eludes imprisonment and again 
REACHES Boston 

ON my arrival home I was taken very ill and con- 
fined to my bed for many days, but at length 
recovered. As I was naturally very active, 
however, I could not long content myself while my 
fellow-countrymen were abroad contending for their 
freedom, so I entered on board a ship (the Tartar)^ 
twenty-eight double-fortified 6-pounders, with a 
crew of 150 good fellows, commanded by Captain D. 
Porter (31), of Boston. I served as master-at-arms. 
This was in the month of November ; the year I forget, 
but I think it must have been 1778 or 1779. We had 
orders to cruise off New York, but unfortunately we 
were blown by a gale of wind into the Gulf Stream. The 
wind, being at northeast, was directly against the cur- 
rent, thus making a terrible cross sea whicfc hove up 
mountains high. It continued to blow six days and 
nights and the pumps were kept constantly at work, 
for, with four feet of water in the hold and the ship 
so old and crazy, we expected to go to the bottom 
every moment. Soon the gallows that bore up the 

1:63] 



spar-deck gave way. I was on the gangway trying 
to support it, or at least help support it, when one of 
the spars struck me, and if I had not caught hold of 
the gangway rail, it would have knocked me overboard. 
It was at night, dark as pitch, and they cried out that 
I was overboard, but I told them I was safe. The 
gale at last abated, and Captain Porter, thinking our 
ship was not fit to cruise off New York in the winter 
season, concluded to go to the West Indies. 

Off the island of Jamaica we very soon took three 
prizes and carried them up to Port-au-Prince in His- 
paniola, into which place, after refitting our ship and 
proceeding to Jamaica again, we presently brought 
some more prizes. Our ship was so old, crazy, and 
leaky that we were obliged to nail strips of rawhide 
over the seams of her upper works in order to keep 
the oakum in place. For six months we continued 
cruising round the island of Jamaica, landing some- 
times twice a week, in fact as often as we felt inclined 
to do so, to procure fresh provisions such as hogs, 
sheep, and poultry. This was in spite of the great 
vigilance and superiority of the British cruisers, for 
our vessel was always disguised in such a manner that 
they could never tell where we were, from any infor- 
mation given them from the shore. At times her sides 
would be painted black or yellow or red, occasionally 
we would run our guns in, strike the topgallantmast, 
and appear like a ship in distress; and we had a number 
of such mancEuvers for deception. 

Our first lieutenant was Major P y,^ of Rhode 

Island, a brave, good-natured man. One night I ac- 
companied him in our seven-oared barge, going ashore 
on the island of Jamaica for a frolic, as we always 
called it. There were thirteen of us in the party, all 
oflicers, and I think of pretty good spunk. While the 

^Probably one of the Perry family of South Kingston, Rhode 
Island. 

1:643 



ship lay to, a small distance from the shore, we landed 
and, leaving two of our number to keep the barge off 
the surf, eleven of us proceeded along the shore, each 
being armed with a man-of-war cutlass and a small 
gun. On we sauntered, passing several plantation 
houses at some distance from the water, until one of 
our party, S. Harris, observed to our lieutenant that he 
saw a flagstaff, for the moon shone as bright as day. 
The lieutenant asked him if he was afraid; he an- 
swered, "Not at all. I only mentioned it that you 
might be informed." "Well," says the lieutenant, "all 
of you sit down under the bushes and I will go and 
see what it is." We were then about three miles from 
our boat. In half an hour the lieutenant returned 
and informed us that the place was nothing but a small 
fort with a parcel of Creoles or West Indians in it, 
and that there was a brig lying in front of it; if we 
liked, he said, we could take the fort and cut out the 
brig. This we all agreed to do. "Now," says he, "be 
careful and don't fire until you get right in amongst 
them; then fire, draw your swords, and have at them; 
we will quick drive them out of the fort." 

On we went, six of us on one side of the road and 
five on the other, and when we came up to the fort 
we rushed right into it. The sentry fired and they all 
ran out from the back part into a sugar-cane field. 
The fort mounted seven guns and had been garrisoned 
by fifty-odd men. After a few moments they began 
to fire their small arms into the fort. Some of us 
were in the guard-house at the time, and I observed 
to the lieutenant that it would be best to spike the 
cannon, but, unfortunately, we had nothing to do this 
with. We were in possession of the place about a 
quarter of an hour when one. Bob Henry, asked the 
lieutenant what we were to do. He answered, "We 
must scout mozzy and run fezer!" ^ that is, we must 

^This seems like the phonetic rendering of a Dutch phrase. 



get to the boat as quick and as well as we could. So 
we all started and ran, the enemy flanking us in the 
bushes. These soon served as a place of concealment 
for Jack Taylor, an Englishman who had given out, 
and then for Sam Harris, a Bostonian who gave out 
and hid himself. At last we reached our boat 
and in we tumbled, but just as the last fellow was 
getting in a ball struck him in the neck. However, 
we quickly rowed to the ship, made sail, and stood 
off. The way we came to know how many were in the 
fort was that Sam Harris, in about four or five weeks, 
got clear from them and came up to Port-au-Prince, 
where our rendezvous was. He told us there were 
fifty-odd men in the fort, who, from the noise we made, 
took us for Spaniards from the island of Cuba, and 
had run out thinking there were at least 200 of us. 
When they found out we were but eleven in all, they 
were astonished at our boldness. 

At length while cruising about we saw a small 
schooner, and giving chase came up with and took 
her. She proved to be a pirate mounting swivels on the 
combings of her hatchways — a Spaniard from the 
island of Cuba. The crew was taken out and we 
manned her ourselves, I being appointed second in 
command. With the schooner we went near the shore, 
behind a cape or point of land not far from a place 
called, I think, Black River, in the island of Jamaica, 
while our ship kept off some distance with British 
colors flying. As the drogers came round the point 
and saw us they would haul off to our ship for protec- 
tion, thinking it was an English vessel, so that in a 
few days we took eleven sail of vessels, brigs, sloops, 
and one ship of eighteen guns (32), and carried them 
all into Port-au-Prince. We made about thirty prizes 
during the whole cruise. We concluded finally to fit 
our ship at Port-au-Prince, run down once more to 
Jamaica, cruise a little while, and then go home through 

[66] 



the Gulf Stream between the island of Cuba and Cape 
Florida. Early one morning, however, as we were 
coming out of the Bight of Logan (Leogane) and 
nearly up with Cape Tibaroone (Tiburon), we saw 
three ships-of-war which were sent from Jamaica to 
take us. I must here observe that our ship sailed very 
fast, for we had been frequently chased by a superior 
force which could not overtake us. As soon as the 
ships were discovered to be men-of-war, we wore ship 
and stood back for Port-au-Prince, but they brought 
the sea breeze in with them and began to come up 
with us very fast, so that we were obliged to run into 
a small place called Petit Goave. As we went in our 
ship struck on the rocks and began to leak so badly 
that in a short time there were four feet of water in 
the hold. Meanwhile the fort on shore commenced 
firing on the English ships, thus keeping them off at 
a distance, and they, seeing us among the rocks, finally 
quitted us and went off. We got our ship safely off 
and went up to Port-au-Prince, but were there only a 
short time when she sank to the bottom and was lost, 
the crew being obliged to shift for themselves as well 
as they could. 

For my part I got on board a letter-of-marque brig 
(the General Lincoln) bound for Salem in the State of 
Massachusetts, commanded by Captain (John) Carnes 
(33). She mounted six guns, 6-pounders, and took on 
board nine of our men, so that in all her crew I think 
we had about twenty-five. As the vessel leaked very 
much I, being handy with tools, was often employed in 
rigging and leathering the pump-boxes, so they called 
me carpenter. When we had got into latitude about 
35° N., or somewheres off the capes of Philadelphia, 
we saw a ship in chase of us called the Iris,^ of about 

^ This vessel, one of the fastest in the British navy, was for- 
merly the Continental frigate Hancock, 32, Captain John Manley, 
captured July 8, 1777. 



twenty guns. Our brig sailed very well, but at length 
the frigate came so near that we could fire at her with 
our stern-chaser, and at it we went. After a while 
she ranged up alongside and we were ordered to strike 
the rebel flag or they would sink us, so the flag was 
struck and, our boat not being fit for service, they 
hoisted out their own boat and came on board. Every 

one of us was taken off; "Not a d d rebel shall 

stay on board !" they said, the reason being that they 
had taken an American privateer and one or two of 
her crew, left on board, had blown up themselves, the 
prize-crew, and the vessel all together. However, 
when they found the brig leaked very much and heard 
there was a carpenter, as they called me, on board, I 
was returned to the vessel to repair the pumps, etc. 
These I forthwith began to make myself very busy in 
examining, for I would rather be on board the prize 
than stowed away in the hold of a ship-of-war, treated 
like a dog or ten times worse. In a few days we ar- 
rived together at New York; the ship-of-war dropped 
her anchor abreast the Battery and we went up the 
East River and dropped our anchor abreast the Fly 
Market,^ near what they called the Commissary's 
Wharf. 

As soon as the anchor was down arrangements were 
made for hauling the brig in, and for this purpose 
warps or ropes were carried to the wharf, which at 
this time was crowded with people from the market 
who had come to look at the rebel prize. Just as the 
brig was within ten yards of the wharf a boat from 
the Iris came alongside with an officer who had been 
sent after me, for they thought I was a real carpenter. 
As he came on deck he inquired where the carpenter 
of the brig was; I stood near him and answered im- 

* This market, from the Dutch word "Vlaie," meadow or valley, 
was at the end of Maiden Lane, and was the most important one 
in the city. 



mediately, "Here, sir!" "Well, my lad," says he, "get 
your duds (meaning clothes) and jump into the boat 
alongside." I answered with a seemingly good will, 
"Yes, sir!" and seeing that I appeared very willing, 
he took no further notice of me but went into the 
cabin and sat down with the prize-master, who began 
to treat him with some of our captain's cordials, 
brought from the West Indies. I, while they were 
talking and drinking right in sight, took my quadrant, 
a large book called a "Quarter-Waggoner," my clothes, 
and a mattress stuffed with cotton, and, dallying a 
little, stood ready to make my escape from them when 
the brig was just by the wharf. My plan was this: I 
knew that as soon as the brig touched she would be 
filled with people to see the rebel prize, as I presume 
there were not less than 200 on the wharf. It happened 
just as I expected; they jumped on board and I, seiz- 
ing the opportunity, crowded in between them, stepped 
ashore, and got clear, unseen by the man-of-war's 
men, and leaving the lieutenant to find me if he could. 
I walked moderately along Water Street as far as 
Burling Slip, then turned to the left into Queen (now 
Pearl) Street, and went up Golden Hill (now John 
Street). The first place I stopped at was Mr. Turk's,^^ 
the turner's shop in Nassau Street, the only person 
I had any knowledge of in New York, as I thought. 
The way I came to know him was that he made a set of 
fifes for our regiment when I was a fife-major. He 
asked me where I came from; I told him from 
the West Indies and evaded every other ques- 
tion as well as I could, as I found he was on 
the British side; nevertheless he was a good man, 
or one whom I should call a timid, peaceable 

^ Ahasuerus Turk, Jr., instrument maker, a freeman of the city, 
October i, 1765, headed his craft in the Federal Procession of 
July 23, 1788, and was living, 1796, at 36 Nassau Street. He was 
a turner and musical instrument maker. 

1:69] 



person. I then recalled that there was a per- 
son in New York by the name of Hill,^ the king's 
head baker, and that he was a friend of my father, 
who favored the English. I inquired of Mr. Turk 
if he knew Mr. Hill. He said he did and that he 
lived near by in King (now Pine) Street, next door 
to the French Church. Off I started in search and 
found him standing at the door, dressed in his red 
coat. I knew his face immediately and accosted him 
with, "How do you do, Mr. Hill?" "Who are you?" 
was his answer, for he did not recognize me. I told 
him my name was Greenwood. "Oho!" says he, "you 
are my friend Greenwood's rebel son John." "Sir," 
said I, "I am your friend's son John. Will you be 
so kind as to let me stay a few days in your house, 
as I have no home nor a farthing of money in my 
pocket?" He asked where I came from; I told him, 
evading his questions as I had done before with Mr. 
Turk, so that he could not tell whether I belonged to 
the British side or not. I was acquainted with his 
son John and his daughters, and in a few days, after 
I had got familiar with them and found I could talk 
freely, I informed him how I had made my escape 
from the English, etc. It startled him at first, but he 
soon got reconciled and proposed contriving some way 
that I might get home. He first said I had better enter 
on board a merchantman in the British service, but I 
told him I could not think of such a thing. As luck 
would have it there was a man who lived in Little Queen 
(now Cedar) Street, a chaplain in the army and an ac- 
quaintance of my father and Mr. Hill, and between the 

® Twenty barrels of flour were found in William Hill's bake- 
house after the British had evacuated Boston in March, 1776; 
he went to Halifax, joined the army, and appears to have come 
back with the English to New York, eventually settling at Shel- 
burne, Nova Scotia. Francis Hill sold provisions, flour, etc., at 
22 King Street, next house to Governor Franklin's, as per Riving- 
ton's GazettCj the French Church being No. 20 on the same street. 

Do] 



two they made out to have me returned a prisoner of 
war to the commissary of prisoners, Mr. Sproat(34). 
I must here remark what a situation I was in whilst 
living in New York, which was about six weeks. As 
I observed before, I had ho money, but my mattress 
being stuffed with cotton, which was then scarce, I 
thought I could get something for it, and accordingly 
carried it to Mr. Watkeys (35), the tallow-chandler 
who lived opposite the New Church in Nassau Street, 
being the same man who was burnt out. He bought 
of me, though what he gave I cannot recollect, but 
presume as much as It was worth, for I always thought 
him an honest man. However, let it be more or let 
it be less, it was all I had to buy my little notions with, 
and I stood in need of money, being sick and weak 
for more than a fortnight before I was permitted to 
go home. There was a cartel bound for New London 
lying In the East River, and on board of her I was 
allowed to go and scrabble with the rest of the prison- 
ers as well as I could. Arriving In a few days, I sold 
my quadrant for eight or ten dollars, and then had to 
travel home on foot to Boston. 



Lvl 



CHAPTER VI 

Again sails with Captain Porter, on the J urorj, 

AND LATER ON THE RjCE HORSE, CaPTAIN N. 

Thayer; carries a prize brig into Tobago; 

BUYS A schooner, TRADES ON THE CHESAPEAKE, 
AND IS TAKEN BY JOE WaLEN's GALLEY REf^ENGE; 
RECOVERS HIS SCHOONER AND REACHES BALTIMORE 
WITH THE PRIZE-CREW 

I WAS taken very ill for a few weeks and was con- 
fined to the house, but had no sooner recovered 
when I started on a letter-of-marque ship (the 
Aurora) of sixteen guns, bound to Port-au-Prince in 
the island of Hispaniola, and commanded by my for- 
mer captain, David Porter. We arrived safe,^ unloaded 
our vessel, and while taking on a cargo of sugar bound 
for Old France a heavy squall came, fairly upset our 
ship, and she sank to the bottom. I was at the time 
in a very dangerous situation, for I had been taken sick 
a few hours before, and, being an officer, my hammock 
had been slung under the half-deck, directly over one 

^ On the voyage down Captain Porter overhauled the wreck 
of the 64-gun ship Stirling Castle, dismantled in the late hurricane 
of October 10, off Cape Nicola Mole, only four men remaining alive 
on board, all the rest of her large crew having perished. Under 
Captain Carkett this vessel, in Sir George B. Rodney's fleet, had 
led the line on the starboard tack in the fight of April 17, 1780, 
with the Count de Ginchen. {Massachusetts Spy, December 21, 

1780.) 



of the guns. The doctor having given me some medi- 
cine I had gone to sleep, when a great noise on deck 
awakened me. I asked a tailor who sat at work near 
by me what was the matter, but the same moment the 
ship rolled her gun-ports nearly under on the side op- 
posite to where I lay, and as I saw this I caught hold 
of the side gun-bolts and got through the port-hole. 
As she lay on her beam-ends the men, to save them- 
selves, ran out on the masts, which kept her down and 
allowed the water to pour into the hatchways like a tor- 
rent and with a noise of thunder, so that she soon went 
down in the middle of the harbor. We were sur- 
rounded by numerous boats which had collected, on 
seeing the accident, to pick the men up, but numbers 
were left swimming for their lives. Eight men were 
in the hold; some got out and some were drowned. 
In about a fortnight we raised her, again loaded her, 
and went to L'Orient in France, returning from there 
to Boston. 2 

After that I went as second mate on a letter-of- 
marque brig out of Boston, commanded by Captain 
T r(36), mounting six guns and bound to To- 
bago^ in the West Indies. One night during our pas- 
sage, being on deck in what is called the morning 
watch, I saw a sail bearing down on us, evidently 
with the intention of speaking. I let her come pretty 
close as she appeared to be in distress, and then went 
down into the cabin to awaken the captain and tell him 
that we had a prize nearly alongside. He was so 
frightened that he jumped out of his berth, undressed 

as he was, and said, "D n it! do you want to be 

taken prisoner again? Order the yards to be squared 

2 The Aurora left L'Orient April 24, and reached Boston May 
20, 1781. 

^ The island of Tobago was surrendered to a French fleet by 
Lieutenant-Governor Fergusson, June 2, 1781, and was not re- 
taken by the English till April 14, 1793. 

[73] 



and run away from her!" He actually had the yards 
squared and stood away, when, finding that our vessel 
could outsail her, he ordered us to brace up and 
haul our wind. In a short time we were alongside, 
when the strange vessel hoisted English colors and 
then struck them without our having occasion to fire 
a single gun. She proved to be a brig bound from 
Rhode Island to Turks Islands for a load of salt, and 
had been captured by the British sloop-of-war Hornet,* 
but the English oflicer, put on board as prize-master, 
was so Ignorant of navigation that he did not know 
where he was, and had so long been looking for the 
island of Barbadoes that there was not a mouthful 
of bread remaining on board. "Well," says my cap- 
tain, "since you have found the prize, you must com- 
mand her and carry her to the port we are bound to." 
I told him I had no objections and that I would take 
her to any friendly port he pleased; so he gave me five 
men and I went on board and took the command. 

The captain's brig sailing faster than mine and 
night coming on, we lost sight of him, but I still 
kept on my course after him, and about midnight we 
espied a vessel close aboard of us. As good luck would 
have it there was a very large man-of-war's trumpet 
on board, and the brig was provided with one large 
swivel-gun mounted on one of the timber-heads for- 
ward. The latter I ordered to be loaded with a strong 
charge and two balls, and then went forward and 
hailed them, ordering them to heave to directly or I 
would sink them. It was so dark they could not see 
what we were and made no answer, so I then ordered 
Russel to fire the gun at them. He took a brand's 
end out of the caboose and fired her; she made a noise 
equal to a 4-pounder and, splitting the timber-head 
she was fastened to all to pieces, flew clear across the 
deck. No sooner was this done than the vessel made 
* Hornet, fourteen guns, commanded by Francis Tinsley. 

[74] 



sail from us as fast as she could, and I got clear of 
her. 

The next day, about ten o'clock, I saw a sail ahead 
which proved to be our brig, and when we were come 
up with her the captain said he thought we had been 
taken, for he was chased by a privateer. I told him 
that I had frightened the privateer away, presuming 
it was the same one that had reconnoitered us, and 
when I showed him the timber-head split to pieces, 
he laughed heartily at such a caper. 

In a few days we arrived at Tobago, discharged our 
cargo, sold our prize, reloaded the brig, and proceeded 
on our voyage, bound to Baltimore and from there 
back to Boston. As I did not like, however, to sail 
with such a captain, who was afraid of his own shadow, 
and as, from the voyage having been altered to return 
to the West Indies, I was at liberty to go with him or 
not, as I pleased, I quitted him. I had plenty of money 
and accordingly proposed to the first mate (whose 
name was Myrick) that, as he also did not like the 
captain, we should leave together and purchase be- 
tween us a small schooner to carry freight to different 
ports on the Chesapeake Bay. 

A schooner of about forty tons burthen was accord- 
ingly procured, of which I owned two thirds, so that we 
were both captains. We hired one man to go with us, 
and the freight that offered was a load of Indian corn. 
We took it in but, not being acquainted with that arti- 
cle, never "chined the ceiling," that is, stopped the 
cracks to prevent the corn from getting to the pumps. 
This corn we were to carry to some iron-works at a 
place called Elkridge-Landing, up a river of which 
I now forget the name,^ and we were directed to fol- 
low another schooner which was going in company 
with us. The latter set off, but as our keg had no 
water in it I had to go and fill it. This I did, but on 

° The Patapsco River, nine miles southwest of Baltimore. 

1175] 



returning stopped to get a pint of porter and stayed 
rather too long, so that the schooner got out of sight. 
My partner began to swear and said, "How shall we 
find the place?" I told him by looking after it; that 
as we had the name of the place, that was enough. 
So I set sail, stood out of the basin, and proceeded on. 
After we had gone some distance out I saw a boat 
and made toward her, proposing to my partner that 
we should ask where the place was we were bound to. 

"No," says he, "I'll be d d if I do !" "Well," said 

I, "how shall we find it, then?" He was a complete 
seaman and could not bear to ask such a question. 
"All right," I said, "then I will ask." When we told 
them our situation, they politely gave us every neces- 
sary information, and away we went in search of our 
port, and at last entered and proceeded up the river. 
Night coming on a monstrous storm arose, and it be- 
gan to blow from the northeast with rain, thunder, and 
lightning, but as it was a fair wind we carried sail 
to it haphazard. Pretty soon we could not see except 
it was by the assistance of the sharp flashes of light- 
ning, and at last the river became winding and crooked 
and our vessel ran aground, plump on a sand-point, 
hard and fast. We had a very small, flat-bottomed 
boat made of boards, not much bigger than a cofl^n, 
into the stern of which I took the anchor, placed 
some coils of the cable in the bow, and then shoved 
the boat out astern, so as to try and haul the schooner 
off the same way she got on. When I went toward 
the anchor, however, to pitch it over, the boat, by rea- 
son of the additional weight in this portion of it, sank 
and turned me into the water; but being a good swim- 
mer I did not mind it, and soon got on board the 
schooner again with the boat safe. By the help of 
the lightning we saw a house on shore, about a mile 
distant, so I took the boat and proceeded to procure 
assistance, but the wind blew so hard I could not get 



off to our vessel again before morning, by which time 
the storm had abated. As it cleared away, to my great 
satisfaction I saw that the schooner had swung off the 
point and was riding by the stern-anchor. I went on 
board, found my partner asleep and many things afloat 
in the cabin, for the vessel leaked, and the pumps being 
choked with corn he could not relieve her. Elkridge- 
Landing being but a few miles distant from where 
we ran ashore, we soon got there, discharged our 
freight, and returned to Baltimore. Myrick said he 
would rather make a West India voyage than take 
another such trip, so sold his part of the schooner to 

one Mr. W b, of Fell's Point, Baltimore. 

We then took in a freight of rigging and other 
articles to carry down to the Piankatank River, ^ which 
is near the Rappahannock. At this time^ the army 
of Cornwallis (37) laid below at Yorktown. We ar- 
rived safe, discharged our freight, and took in some 
oats for Baltimore; we had likewise seven passengers 
who were sutlers, or rum-sellers, to General Washing- 
ton's army and had considerable money with them. 
It was late in the afternoon on a Sunday that we made 
sail out of the river, and the wind and tide being ahead 
we concluded to drop anchor. My passengers, and my 
partner too, being nearly drunk, all went down into 
the cabin to sleep and left the man we had hired and 
myself on deck to take care of the vessel. As soon 
as the tide turned we hauled up the anchor and, mak- 
ing sail from the mouth of the river, stood out into 
the bay, the wind still being ahead. After we had 
made a good stretch into the bay I hove her about 
and stood in for Rappahannock Point. On this point 

" Stingray Point ran out between the Rappahannock on the north 
and the Piankatank on the south. Off the mouth of the latter 
river was Gwynn's Island, and at the entrance of the Rappa- 
hannock, on the north side, was Windmill Point. 

'About October, 1781. 

1:773 



there are a number of dead pine-trees, and close into 
the land at the time there laid at anchor two English 
galleys which we did not see as they were behind a 
schooner laden with tar which they had taken. One 
of these galleys was rowed with thirty-two oars and 
had sixty-odd men on board, and the other rowed with 
twelve or fourteen oars and had about twenty-five or 
thirty men. As I thought all was safe I called up my 
partner and desired him to take the helm, for I was 
sleepy; then I wrapped myself up in my greatcoat and 
went down into the hold to sleep on the oats. The 
hatchway was open and it was apparently but a few 
minutes before I heard a great noise on deck with cut- 
lasses and swords. I thought at first it was my pas- 
sengers playing, as I had some swords on board, so I 
halloed out to them to be still. Immediately a fellow 
leaped down into the hold, gave me a stroke or two 
with his sword, and bade me jump up on deck. The 
first person I saw on coming out of the hold was one 
I knew as well as my brother; his name was Mont- 
gomery^ and he used to live with Mr. Turk, the turner, 
in New York. "Why, Montgomery," said I to him, 
in my confusion not seeing the English flag flying, "are 
you among these pirates?" No sooner had I made the 
observation than the captain of the large galley (called 
the Revenge ) , whose name was Walen (38) or Waley, 
a tall, slim, gallous-looking fellow in his shirt-sleeves, 
with a gold-laced jacket on that he had robbed from 
some old trooper on the eastern shore, made answer, 
"Sir, I will let you know that I have as good a com- 
mission as any seventy-four in his Britannic Majesty's 
service !" I told him that I had found out I was mis- 
taken, but had thought at first it was one of our own 
galleys from Annapolis who would at times board and 

^Archibald Montgomery in June, 1783, was among the New 
York refugees for Nova Scotia. (Sabine's "American Loyalists.") 
See note, page 70. 

C783 



plunder our own vessels. After telling him that it 
was the fortune of war, etc., and that I hoped he would 
let me have my clothes, he said I should be allowed 
to retain them. 

The sun was now about half an hour high. My 
passengers were ordered to get into the large galley, 
but my partner, abusing the captain, was put in irons 
and sent into the stern of the small galley under the 
care of a negro; all the other men were taken out of 
her. An Irishman, one of the passengers, and I were 
left on the schooner, and the captain of the small 
galley and nine (seven?) others, including Mont- 
gomery, were placed on board to manage her. The 
captain last mentioned was a mulatto named George, 
six feet high and formerly, as I afterward understood, 
a slave to Colonel Fitzhugh of Virginia.^ George's gal- 
ley was now fastened with her grappling in our stern- 
sheets, and left for us to tow along, while Walen, as 
it was by this time fairly dark, muffled his oars and 
prepared to go up the Piankatank River to rob one Mr. 
Gwynn, where we had deposited our freight, among 
which was a hogshead of rum. 

After giving orders for us to go to Gwynn's Island 
and there come to an anchor and wait for him, Walen 
set out and accomplished his design. The wind at this 
time had shifted and blew fair for Baltimore, and in 
beating about to fetch Gwynn's Island, we struck on a 
place called Stingray Point, came to an anchor, and 
waited till next morning. At daylight a droger, laden 
with tobacco, was seen standing alongshore, and our 
anchor was immediately taken up and sail set for the 
pursuit, the refugees meanwhile firing at her as the chase 

^ Colonel William Fitzhugh, of Maryland, aged and blind, lived 
near the mouth of the Patuxent River, about half a mile from 
the shore; his son Peregrine w^as recommended by General Wash- 
ington, in October, 1778, as a cornet in Colonel George Baylor's 
troop. 

1:793 



passed by within musket-shot. When it was found im- 
possible to overtake the droger with the small galley 
in tow, Captain George ordered my partner on board 
the schooner and, placing another man in the galley, left 
her at anchor and renewed the chase. By this time 
the large galley was also in sight, making after the 
droger and near enough to fire at her the 6-pound 
cannon which she had in her bow. It was without 
effect, however, so we gave over the chase and hauled 
our wind so as to take the galley in tow again when we 
came up with her. Captain George now ordered three 
more men on board the latter, making five in all, who 
were set at work cleaning the muskets, of which some 
would not go off when they were firing at the droger. 
We then started in to join the large galley, which was 
about six miles off and running for Gwynn's Island. 

My partner, W b, the Irishman, and myself 

now agreed to retake the schooner, although each of 
the four men left upon her was armed with a pair of 
pistols, a sword, and gun. Moreover the small galley 
was again close in tow with her grapnel in our stern- 
sheets. Our plan was to persuade the captain that 
there was money hidden in the cabin; this was done 
forthwith, and down he went in search of it. There 
now remained on deck Montgomery, a person at the 
helm steering, and a man by the foremast. As I stood 
by the cabin door I called Montgomery to me and, 
as he came near, seized him by the collar, tripped him 
with my foot, and pitched him into the cabin. At the 
same time my partner caught up the cutlass which the 
man at the helm had carelessly laid on the stern-sheets, 
and running forward struck down the man there. The 
helmsman now cried out, "Hein ! hein!" which was all 

he had time to say, for W b was aft again in an 

instant with his cutlass raised, just going to strike him 
on the head. At the first alarm the man had hauled 
out the tiller and made a stroke at me, but it missed 

[So] 



and dropped out of his hand, and, seeing no chance of 
safety, the fellow in a moment jumped over the stern 
of the vessel into the water. As the man could not 
swim I suppose he drowned; I saw him struggling, but 
had too much business to attend to just then to pay any 
regard to him, for the galley men in our wake began 
to fire at us as fast as they could load their guns. Our 
schooner was then all in the wind, in sight of the large 
galley, and dropping astern and foul of the smaller 
one. I told my partner to run forward and bear off 
the jib to wear or fetch the schooner around, so that 
we might put her head toward Baltimore; this he did 
while I was casting off the main-sheet, which was close 
hauled. At this time the galley in tow was so near 
that I could have jumped on board her, and the fire 
of the muskets almost burned my hair, but they were 
such bad marksmen that they did not hit either of us. 
Meanwhile I had entirely forgotten the grapnel in our 
stern-sheets, but when my partner desired me to heave 
it overboard, I took it up and threw it over, exclaiming, 
"There, my boys, you have got your galley all to your- 
selves I" At the same time they were firing right at me, 
shouting, "Fire at that fellow with a greatcoat on !" 

Up we went toward Baltimore, without a drop of 
water or any provisions on board, for the refugees had 
devoured everything we had. Captain George and 
Montgomery being in the cabin, the next thing was what 
should we do with them. I said it would be best to let 
the latter come on deck, go forward, and dress the 
wound on the shoulder-bone which my partner had 
dealt the man there. I accordingly opened the top 
of the companion and told him to come up, bringing 
his sword and pistols and likewise those of the captain. 
As we had ourselves the pair of pistols taken from the 
wounded man, we stood in little fear of the other two. 
Montgomery came up trembling like a leaf, for he was 
a great coward and I presume never fired a gun in war 

no 



during his lifetime. The refugees in general were a 
set of gallows-marked rascals, fit for nothing but 
thieves; hell-hounds and plunderers from inoffensive, 
unarmed people, they seemed to be without any kind of 
principle, and I honestly believe that ten honest, re- 
ligious, determined men could intimidate or drive a 
hundred such vile villains. Their whole object was 
plunder, and they paid no manner of regard to the 
vessel they despoiled, be it loyal or otherwise; gain was 
all they sought, and to acquire from others what they 
were, through mere laziness, unable to acquire for 
themselves. 

Well we got clear of the rascals, but were chased 
by the large galley for some time. I then ordered 
the famous Captain George to come on deck. He 
was very humble and said, "Master, I hope you will 
not kill me." I told him I would not if he behaved 
himself in a proper manner, but that if he even at- 
tempted to make a wry face I would certainly put him 
to death; never was a poor devil more submissive. 
As the large galley was now in chase of us I told 
George, who I knew was a good steersman, to take 
the helm, adding that if either through accident or 
design he jibed the vessel, I would that instant kill 
him. He was much frightened, however, and kept a 
bright lookout to avoid such a catastrophe. We were 
now wing and wing, that is, right before the wind, 
and those in the large galley, finding we outsailed them, 
gave over the chase and made for Gwynn's Island, 
telling the prisoners who were there put on shore 
that had we been overtaken they would have massacred 
us. I really believe they would have done it too, 
for Captain Walen appeared to me to be as great a 
villain as ever was unhung. All such characters in their 
employ the British seemed to encourage, as they were 
not twopence better themselves. Read their history 
and you will be satisfied of it if you are an honest man. 



After many difficulties, such as starvation, being very 
thirsty and dry, running Smith's Point and among the 
Tangier Islands, we arrived safe at Baltimore. On 
the route we were again attacked by another pirate, 
as I call them, the Chesapeake Bay being at that time, 
when the army of Cornwallis was at Yorktown, in- 
fested by innumerable picaroons, barges, galleys, and 
small privateers; it was a great chance that we escaped 
the villains. 

As soon as we touched the wharf and the people 
learned that we had been taken and had recaptured 
our vessel, they came on board, took out the prisoners, 
and, carrying them up to a blacksmith's shop, there had 
them put in irons. Poor devils! I pitied them, for 
they then had got into the hands of cowards, or of 
a mob, which is always brave when there is no danger. 
I remonstrated against the usage they gave, told 
them the men were prisoners of war and that, as it 
was impossible for them to escape, there was no use 
of putting them in irons; that as to punishing them 
there was no necessity of that, for they had received 
punishment already in being made prisoners. The 
cowards called me a tory and said I had nothing to do 
with them, so I left the prisoners in the hands of 
those brave Baltimoreans who had not at that time 
one ship-of-war or privateer out on the whole Chesa- 
peake Bay, when we New England men had hundreds 
cruising against the common enemy. 



[83] 



I 



CHAPTER VII 

Makes two voyages to Saint Eustatius in the 
Baltimore armed schooner Resolution,- on 

SECOND trip, when CAPTAIN, IS TAKEN BY THE 
FRIGATE SJNTJ MJRGARETTJ; PRISONER THE 
FOURTH TIME AT KINGSTON, JAMAICA; HOSTILITIES 
CEASING, HE REACHES NeW YoRK ON AN ENGLISH 
CUTTER AND THENCE RETURNS HOME 

IT seemed to me imprudent to trust myself again 
down the bay trading, so I was obliged to sell my 
part of the schooner; if that rascal Walen could 
have taken me I should have been killed without mercy. 
I accordingly stayed on shore awhile (part of the 
years 1781 and 1782) until an opportunity should 
offer for me to do better, and at last there was a 
schooner fitting out for the West Indies, the captain 
of which, boarding in the same house as I did, asked 
me if I would go as his mate. I consented, not being 
able to do better, and entered on board the schooner 
Resolution (39), which mounted six guns. The cap- 
tain was a miserable fellow, however, a Virginian, not 
naturally brave though a great swearer, so that many 
people would have been led to think he was a fighting 
man if they had heard him talking. We set sail for 
the island of Saint Eustatius,^ arrived safe, disposed 

1 Saint Eustatius, West Indies, had been surrendered to the 
English by the Dutch, February 3, 1781; toward the end of the 

[843 



of our cargo of flour at twenty-five dollars per barrel 
which cost in Baltimore nine dollars and a half, and 
taking in salt at eighteen cents per pushel, sold it for 
eight dollars in Edenton, North Carolina, into which 
place we were chased by a Bermuda privateer, the 
Jolly Bacchus. 

The captain turning out to be no great things, the 
owners discharged him and gave the command of the 
schooner to me, and, loading up at Edenton with flour, 
bacon, etc., I again proceeded on for Saint Eustatius. 
The passage I meant to run through laid between An- 
tigua and Saint Bartholomew, and early one Sunday 
morning (December i, 1782^), as we were approaching 
the former island but not yet In sight, the man at the 
helm told me he saw a sail to windward bearing down 
on us. It was blowing very hard at the time and I had 
the bonnet off my jib and foresail, two reefs out of the 
mainsail, and was standing on a wind to the eastward, 
as I thought I had not eastern enough. I soon per- 
ceived the vessel approaching us and ordered all hands 
to make sail, took the bonnet and bent it on the jib 
and foresail, let out the reefs of the mainsail, and 
clapped her away four points free. She sailed like a 
bird, but in two or three hours the pursuing vessel came 
up with us, firing, one after another, seven shots at 
us, and at last got so close that I could see the buttons 
on the men's coats. They then got ready a 6-pound 
cannon from the quarter (deck) loaded with grape- 
shot, and fired point-blank into us, cutting away our 
jib-sheet blocks, forepeak tie, and other rigging for- 
ward. This brought our schooner right into the wind, 
so close to the ship that we were very near being run 

year news reached Philadelphia that it had been taken, Novem- 
ber 26, by the French under the Marquis de Bouille, governor 
of Martinique. 

2 Date taken from log-book of the Santa Margaretta in May, 
1893. 

[85] 



down, whereupon we struck our colors, and an officer 
and six men were put in charge. The vessel proved to 
be the Santa Margaretta (40), a British 40-gun ship, 
Captain Salter, a clever fellow who, treating me well 
as a prisoner, carried me down to Port Royal, Jamaica. 
Here I was put on shore without one farthing except 
six guineas which I had secreted as button-moulds to 
my coat. When I arrived at Kingston I got lodgings 
at the sign of the "Gold Chain and Wooden Leg," 
which was the rendezvous of the ship's crew. 

I stayed there a few weeks and then tried to make 
my escape with five or six more American masters 
and mates of vessels. Our plan was to take one of the 
king's barges, then under repair, and run across to a 
place called the Palisades, but unfortunately when we 
were all prepared to carry out our enterprise the barge 
was taken away. We went down the next day to recon- 
noiter for another boat, but not finding one that would 
suit us, relinquished our project. 

As I was walking back to the house I accidentally 
met the sailing-master of the Santa Margaretta, who 
asked me if I wanted to go home. I told him I did 
if I could get an opportunity. "Well," says he, "if 
you have a mind to go by New York, I can procure 
you a chance." "Agreed," says I, "if you will let me 
take my bag with me." He went with me to my lodg- 
ings, where I got my chest and then went on board 
a British brig-of-war, commanded by Captain Nickols^ 
and bound for New York. We arrived safe after 
taking a Spanish prize in the Gulf Stream, running 
from Havana to the Spanish Main. The prize was 
loaded with wines, sweetmeats, etc. ; we only plundered 
her of what we wanted and let her go. 

On our arrival at New York the brig came to anchor 
at a wharf near the shipyards, and Robertson, a mid- 

^ Captain Henry Nicholls (41), of the 14-gun cutter Barracouta, 
a name taken from the dreaded "devil-fish" of the West Indies. 

CSS] 



I 



shipman, and I took a walk down to Fly Market and 
stopped into a porter-house to get a pint of porter. 
There were several persons in the place sitting around 
a stove, and next to me was an Irishman reading a 
newspaper. I observed to the latter that, as soon as he 
was done reading the paper, I would be glad to see 
it. "By my soul, you are welcome to it," said he. The 
first thing my eyes met was the account of a prize cap- 
tured by the very same Captain Walen"* who had taken 
me in the Chesapeake Bay with his galley. I forgot 
where I was for a moment and observed to Robertson 
that I believed I knew Captain Walen, and asked if 
he did not command a large galley that rowed with 
thirty-three oars. The Irishman, who actually belonged 
to her, made answer that he believed I did know Cap- 
tain Walen very well, and that he would be very glad 
to see me. I told him that I had a brother who was 
taken by him some time past in the Chesapeake Bay; 
that I looked very much like my brother, but that I 
was in the British service while he was a rebel. "By 
my soul you are twin brothers then," said he, "for 
I could swear that you are the man and that you and 
two more retook the vessel after killing and wounding 
some of our men." I think I heard that it was said 
we had killed six of them, and it is not improbable 
that they made such report, as they are fond of ex- 
aggerating their accounts. I made out to get clear of 
them and went down to the brig in company with 
Robertson, where Captain Nickols paid me eight 
dollars. As there was at this time a cartel ready to 
carry home prisoners of war, I got on board and set out 

* "Yesterday was sent in here two small schooners, taken in the 
Chesapeake by the Victory, privateer, Captain Wallen." (Gaines' 
N. Y. Gazette and Weekly Mercury, of Monday, March 31, 

1783.) 

"Same day (Sunday, March 30) arrived a small schooner, taken 
in Chesapeake Bay by tlie Victory, privateer. Captain Wallen." 
{Rivington's Gazette, New York, Wednesday, April 2, 1783.) 



once more for New London, where I arrived safe and 
went on to Boston^ (42). 

5 The king's proclamation of February 14, for a cessation of arms, 
was officially read at the City Hall in New York, April 8, 1783. 



CSS] 



ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES 



ILLUSTRATIVE NOTES 

Note i, Page 3 

The North Writing School was located at the cor- 
ner of North Bennet Street and Love Lane, near 
where now stands the Eliot School. John Green- 
wood's great-grandfather, SamuelGreenwood, had been 
one of a committee in March, 1711 or 171 2, for select- 
ing a site and overseeing the building of It. At the 
time In question John Tlleston, subsequently called the 
"venerable," though the boys, not quite so respectful, 
used to give him the title of "old Johnny Tlleston," was 
master, with a salary, fixed May 15, 1764, at £100. 
The third and fourth fingers of his right hand were 
so contracted from the effects of a severe burn as to 
form an admirable socket for his ferrule, or "hickory 
whig of '76," as he called it, for which Instrument of 
torture it seems he had a great partiality. Years 
after has John Greenwood pointed out to his son on 
Boston streets the approaching form of his former 
master, and then abruptly crossed over to the other 
side of the causeway. He used to relate that many 
a time had some hungry urchin slid from his seat In 
school and, creeping stealthily along beneath the forms, 
notified the fortunate possessor of a savory luncheon 
of his presence by a sly pinch and a whispered "Hunks ! 
I smell cheese," when just as the levied tribute was 
about to be paid, the quick eye of the master would 
discover the delinquent, and "Come here, you tigera- 

L9n 



bus!" would summon him to the desk for condign 
punishment. On a list of scholars, 176 1-5, we find 
the name of Isaac Greenwood, John's elder brother. 
Tileston died in 1826, aged ninety-two years, and 
from him Love Lane received its present appellation 
of Tileston Street. 



Note 2, Page 4 

William H. Montague, Esq., of Boston, writing 
July 14, 1859, to W. B. Trask, editor of the "New 
England Historical and Genealogical Register," says: 
"I was well acquainted with Dr. William Pitt Green- 
wood from boyhood. Taking a walk with him on 
Copp's Hill and vicinity on the 17th of June, the 
anniversary of the battle of Bunker Hill — the year 
I do not recollect; it was either 1847, '8 or '9 — in 
company with Mr. Isaac Cazneau, an Octogenarian 
who had lived in the neighborhood all his life, he 
(Greenwood) pointed out his father's residence, at that 
time (1775) on the east side of Salem Street, be- 
tween Prince Street and Christ Church. He also 
pointed out the spot, but a few rods from the house, 
where a battalion of British troops were quartered, 
and both he and Mr. Cazneau saw them march off 
in the morning of June 17, 1775, as they said, 'in high 
feather,' and saw some of them brought back wounded 
in the afternoon. They both also remembered see- 
ing Major Pitcairn carried through Charter Street 
mortally wounded, though at the time they did not 
know who he was; his remains were buried under 
Christ Church." 

The steeple of this church came down in a gale 
of wind in October, 1804. 

W. P. Greenwood, youngest brother of John Green- 
wood, died May 10, 185 1, on the eighty-fifth anni- 
versary of his birth. 

1:923 



Note 3, Page 4 

The Boston Gazette of Monday, March 12, 1770, 
says: "Mr. Samuel Maverick, a promising youth of 
seventeen years of age, son of the widow Maverick, 
and an apprentice to Mr. Isaac Greenwood, Ivory- 
turner, mortally wounded; a ball went through his 
belly and was cut out at his back. He died the next 
morning." Mrs. Mary Maverick, who lived at the 
corner of Union Street and Salt Lane, had married 
a son of Mr. John Maverick, importer of lignum- 
vltae and other hard woods, (See Drake's "Boston," 
p. 781, etc.; Sumner's "East Boston," p. 171.) 

Isaac Greenwood, Jr., the elder brother of John 
(and future father of the late Judge John Green- 
wood, of Brooklyn), was a witness of the massacre, 
being then in his twelfth year. Attracted by the ring- 
ing of bells, indicating a fire, Maverick and Green- 
wood were proceeding along hand in hand when, in 
King Street, Samuel left his companion and joined 
in the popular tumult about some soldiers at the 
custom-house. In the volley which ensued Maverick 
fell just as he was throwing up his arms and shouting, 

"Fire away, you d lobster-backs!" This epithet 

was applied to the soldiers on account of their red 
coats, but more than a century earlier. Sir Arthur 
Hasebrig's cuirassiers, in the Parliamentary service, 
were also known as "lobsters," from their iron breast- 
plates. (See "Diary of Henry Teonge, Chaplain, 
1675-79," London, 1825.) 

Note 4, Page 4 

Captain Martin Gay, a brass-founder of Boston 
and one of the fire-wards in 1769, was one of the thir- 
teen lieutenants of the Boston regiment in 1761 and 
captain of a company in 1769. In 1770 he was lieu- 
tenant of the Ancient and Honorable Artillery Com- 

1:933 



pany and captain in 1772. At this time the company's 
uniform was blue coats, with lapels and yellow buttons, 
buff underclothes, silk stockings, white linen spatter- 
dashes, and gold-laced cocked hats; their fifers and 
drummers were uniformed in white cloth coats 
trimmed with blue lapels and white linings, white linen 
waistcoats and breeches, and caps of white cloth with 
gold binding. When Martin Gay was lieutenant of 
the Boston Artillery Company, William Heath (after- 
ward a major-general in the Continental army) was 
the captain, having succeeded Major Adino Paddock. 
Captain Gay went to Nova Scotia in March, 1776, 
and in November, 1792, returned to Boston, where 
he died, February 3, 1809, aged eighty-two. He had 
a granddaughter, Mrs. Mary (Gay) Greenwood, 
daughter of Samuel Gay, who lived in Nova Scotia. 
Captain Gay's portrait is given in Robert's "History 
of the Artillery Company," Vol. II. 

Note 5, Page 5 

Previous to the Revolution the only attempts to 
use brick in Falmouth were in the houses of John 
Butler on King Street and John Greenwood on the 
south side of Middle Street. The latter, a three-story 
wooden building with brick ends situated between 
Captain Pearson's Lane and Fish Street (now Willow 
and Silver streets), was commenced in October, 1774. 
It escaped destruction when the town was burned by 
the British, October 18, 1775, and was taken down, 
1855-6, to make room for a large hotel erected by 
the Hon. John M. Wood, previous to which event 
several views were taken of the place. Meetings of 
the Falmouth Lodge, established 1762, of which 
Greenwood was a member, were held at times in the 
house up to 1780. Mr. Greenwood sold out all his 
real estate previous to November, 1784, after which 

[94!] 



nothing further Is known of him. He was married 
in Trinity Church, Boston, November 2, 1762, to 
Mercy Clarke, who died, December 17, 1770, aged 
twenty-seven years, and was interred in the south- 
west end of the old East Cemetery, Portland, where 
her husband's mother, Sarah (Clarke) Greenwood, 
widow of Professor Isaac Greenwood, was buried 
toward the close of May, 1776, A small mahogany 
chest of drawers made by John Greenwood the young- 
er while with his uncle at Falmouth is in the writer's 
possession. 

Note 6, Page 5 

The third week following this event was a stirring 
one in Falmouth. On Monday, May 8, Lieutenant- 
Colonel Samuel Thompson, an ardent patriot, eager 
to destroy the i6-gun cutter Canso, which lay off the 
town of Falmouth, came down from Brunswick (some 
thirty miles to the northeast) with about 150 men 
from that place and Topsham. They carried a green- 
topped spruce pole for a standard. The expedition 
landed in the Bark Cove late in the afternoon, and the 
men, concealing themselves in a pine wood back of 
the town on the north and east slope of Munjoy's 
Hill, had been able to seize and make prisoners of 
Lieutenant Henry Mowat, the commander of the 
cutter, his ship surgeon, and the Episcopal minister, 
Mr. John Wiswall, while the latter were enjoying 
their customary exercise on the east side of the Fal- 
mouth peninsula. A message from the vessel soon 
informed the inhabitants that their place would be 
laid in ashes if the parties detained were not im- 
mediately released. The Falmouth Cadets turned 
out, and we may be sure the little fifer was with them. 
Mowat was brought up to town by Thompson and his 
men, where finally, after much discussion, he was 
allowed, under parole and late in the evening, to re- 

1:953 



turn to his vessel. Before morning Colonel Phinney's 
minute-men and many of the militia from Gorham, 
Scarborough, Cape Elizabeth, and Stroudwater, in all 
600 or more, were in town, most of them willing to 
carry out Thompson's scheme. Heavy guns, how- 
ever, were lacking, and finally, better counsel prevail- 
ing. Colonel Phinney got the militia in a day or two 
to return homeward. After a while the Canso sailed 
for Portsmouth, only to return in a few months, when, 
with the sanction of Admiral Graves, Mowat carried 
out his former threat and wantonly fired the town. 
Lieutenant Greenwood's house was saved, but he met 
with a loss of fi68. A contemporary cosmoramic 
view of the burning is given in Fiske's "American 
Revolution," Houghton, Mifflin & Company's illus- 
trated edition, 1896, Vol. I, pp. 172-3. 

Note 7, Page 9 

By returns of January i, 1776, Hardy Pierce, of 
Boston, was second lieutenant in Captain Ebenezer 
Stevens's company of Colonel Knox's regiment of ar- 
tillery. The following fall he was stationed at Fort 
Lee (formerly Fort Constitution) on the Hudson, 
and was killed, November 5, by the premature dis- 
charge of a cannon while firing at the enemy's shipping. 
("American Archives," 5th Series, Vol. Ill, p. 800.) 

Note 8, Page 9 

The Rev. Winwood Serjeant was, at the outbreak 
of the Revolution, the Episcopal minister of Christ 
Church, Cambridge, Massachusetts. He fled with his 
family, at first to Kingston, New Hampshire, and 
afterward to Newbury, whence in 1778 he returned 
to Bristol, England. The house in which he lived at 
the beginning of the troubles and which was ransacked 

19^1 




MARY (I'ANS) GREENWOOD, 

"Wife of Isaac Greenwood. 



by the mob stood on the Observatory ground, nearly 
opposite to the end of Linnaean Street, but has since 
been removed to the other side of Garden Street. 
(Hoppin's "History of Christ Church.") 

Note 9, Page 10 

Elizabeth Hale, second wife and widow of Colonel 
Robert Hale, of Beverly, who had participated in the 
siege of Louisburg under Sir William Pepperrell in 
1745. She was the youngest daughter of the Hon. 
Dr. John Clarke, of Boston, and was named for her 
aunt, Elizabeth Clarke, second wife of the Rev. Dr. 
Cotton Mather. Her sister Sarah married Professor 
Isaac Greenwood of Harvard College. Later on 
Mrs. Hale lived in Boston as a member of her 
nephew's (Isaac Greenwood's) family, and died, Sep- 
tember 23, 1795, aged eighty-nine years, leaving no 
issue. 

Note 10, Page ii 

The marriage intentions of Isaac Greenwood, of 
Boston, and Mary Pans were recorded January 21, 
1757. She was born apparently in some Irish garrison 
town in 1725, and died at Dedham, Massachusetts, 
October 11, 1820, aged ninety-five years, having 
survived her husband seventeen years. Mrs. Green- 
wood was a staunch patriot, full of fire and wit, with 
bright, sparkling eyes, a smiling countenance, and 
a tiny figure. One of her two sisters married Robert 
Woolsey, a merchant of Quebec; the other, Martha, 
was the wife of Thomas Walker,^ a merchant of Bos- 
ton who settled in Montreal soon after its surrender 
to the English (September 8, 1760). Here in the 
discharge of his duties as a justice of the peace Walker 

^ See Appendix B. 

[97] 



aroused the enmity of some army officers, who broke 
into his town house and brutally maltreated him. He 
received no redress for this, however, even though 
his case was laid before the king in person. Later 
on his sympathies were all with the revolted colonies; 
he corresponded with their committees and prepared 
to aid them with a native Canadian force. Colonel 
Arnold's hasty line from Ticonderoga and Ethan 
Allen's premature movement against the city and his 
sending messengers for help to Colonel Walker con- 
firmed the suspicions of the authorities. His houses 
in the city and at L'Assomption had been both closely 
watched and his mail intercepted; with the proof ob- 
tained his arrest was determined upon, and accordingly 
one night his farm-house was attacked and fired by a 
party of native militia, and he and his wife were 
dragged down a ladder from the burning building, 
hurried up to town, and imprisoned on a charge of 
high treason. The colonel was finally released only 
when the colonists took possession of Montreal. 



Note ii. Page 13 

The Americans did not cease working on their en- 
trenchments until noon, and it was three o'clock be- 
fore the British troops moved forward to the at- 
tack. General Ward, who had reserved his own regi- 
ment with those of Patterson and Gardner and a 
part of Bridge's for the defense of Cambridge, de- 
spatched the first three, late in the afternoon, to the 
scene of action. Patterson's was stationed at Jack 
Tuft's storehouse,^ nearly down to the road leading 
to Milk Row. There is record of but one soldier 
of the regiment wounded on this occasion. (See Ap- 
pendix A.) 

2 Afterward on Sycamore Street. 

:98] 



Note 12, Page 13 

John Patterson, son of Major John Patterson who 
died from yellow fever at the siege of Havana, Septem- 
ber 5, 1762, aged fifty-four years, was born in 1744 
at New Britain, Connecticut. A graduate in 1762 of 
Yale College, he taught school, practised law, and was 
a justice of the peace in his native town until his re- 
moval in 1774, with his father-in-law, Josiah Lee, to 
Lenox, Massachusetts. He was a member of the Berk- 
shire Congress, convened at Stockbridge, July 6, 1774, 
and of the first and second Provisional Congresses of 
Massachusetts. Two regiments of minute-men were 
formed in Berkshire County at the time, one under 
John Patterson, of Lenox, which was from the northern 
and middle parts of the county, the other under John 
Fellows, of Sheffield, from the southern part of the 
county. News of the affair at Lexington having 
reached the Berkshire Hills, Patterson's men were on 
their way to Cambridge at sunrise on April 21, and 
on May 27 he and his field officers received their com- 
missions from the Provisional Congress for the 12th 
Massachusetts Bay Regiment of Foot. After the 
arrival of General Washington this regiment became 
the 26th Regiment of Foot of the Army of the United 
Colonies, and upon the reorganization of 1776 the 
15th Regiment of Foot. February 21, 1777, Colonel 
Patterson was appointed brigadier-general and at- 
tached to the Northern Department. The command 
of the 15th was given to Colonel Timothy Bigelow, 
and on April 22 the State of Massachusetts appointed 
Lieutenant-Colonel Joseph Vose as colonel, vice 
Colonel Patterson, promoted. On September 19 a 
portion of Patterson's brigade took active part in 
the battle of Stillwater under General Gates, and was 
present at the surrender of Burgoyne. During the 
winter of 1777-8 it was encamped at Valley Forge 

C993 



and participated, the following June, in the battle of 
Monmouth. On September 29, 1780, Patterson was 
one of the fourteen general officers composing the 
court-martial at Tappan, New York, before which 
Major Andre was arraigned. During the war Patter- 
son was the first Master of a traveling lodge of free- 
masons^ called the "Washington Lodge," which was 
continued till the close of hostilities. Afterward, on 
the outbreak of the Shays's Rebellion of 1786, he 
headed a detachment of the Berkshire militia which 
was called out. As one of the proprietors of the 
Boston Company he settled, in 1790, at Whelney's 
Point, in Union, Tioga County (afterward known as 
Lisle, Broome County), in the State of New York; 
was first judge of the Court of Common Pleas in 
Tioga County, 1798, and of Broome County, 1806; 
a member of Assembly, 1792-3; of the New York 
Constitutional Convention of 1801; and a Represen- 
tative in Congress, 1803-5. He died July 19, 1808, 
aged sixty-four years, leaving two sons and several 
daughters. 

Note 13, Page 13 

The Rev. Daniel Bliss, of Concord, Massachusetts, 

who died in 1764, aged forty-nine years, was born in \ 

Springfield, Hampden County, and left four sons and ^ 

several daughters, of whom the eldest, Phebe, married ' 

the Rev. William Emerson, of Concord, and was grand- * 

3 By order of the R. W., William Burbeck, Esq., Master holding ' 

under the authority of Scotland, all Masonic brethren (particularly ; 

those of St. Andrew's Lodge, formerly of Boston) were notified in > 

the Essex Gazette, Salem, December 21, 1775, that the Feast of ] 

St. John would be celebrated on Wednesday, December 27, at the » 

Free Masons Arms, Cambridge. A general attendance was recom- 
mended. "Table to be elegantly furnished by two o'clock. Breth- 
ren to bring their clothing." 

William Burbeck was lieutenant-colonel of Knox's regiment of ' 

Continental artillery. 

[100] 



mother of the late Ralph Waldo Emerson, of Boston. 
Two of the sons, Daniel, a lawyer of Concord, who died 
in 1806, aged sixty-six years, at Lincoln, near Frederic- 
ton, New Brunswick, and Samuel, who died in 1803 at 
St. George, New Brunswick, were loyalists. The young- 
est son, Joseph, who had been a lieutenant in the 
artillery company of Captain Winthrop Sargent, 
Colonel John Crane's regiment, died at Haverhill, 
New Hampshire, and his daughter, Louisa, widow of 
the Hon. Arthur Livermore, of Holderness, Massa- 
chusetts, corresponded with the writer in May, 1859, 
at which time she was living in Brooklyn, New York. 
It is, however, with the second son, Theodore Thomas 
Bliss, born May 21, 1745, that we are now interested. 
He appears to have settled in Boston as a shipwright 
and was a member of Fire Engine No. 9 before 1768. 
He was called to the council chamber on the night 
of March 5, 1770, to give evidence as to Captain 
Thomas Preston's (of the 29th Foot) "giving the 
soldiers orders to fire on the inhabitants." Several 
of the depositions taken after that occurrence speak 
of young Bliss's interview with the captain just be- 
fore the firing took place. The "New England His- 
torical and Genealogical Register," Vol. XLII, p. 
263, states that a Captain Theodore Bliss of the Ameri- 
can army married Elizabeth Barrett, born January 
24, 1747, and died May 29, 1783, eldest daughter 
of Daniel and Elizabeth (Wadsworth) Barrett. 

About May, 1775, Captain Bliss appears to have 
raised, for the Continental service, a company of 
men the better part of whom, according to a return 
of October, 1775, were from Boston, as was he him- 
self. The captain has been also styled as "from Brim- 
field, Mass.," a small place some seventy miles south- 
west of Boston and a few miles north of east from 
Monson. From Monson, on the Chicopee River, 

[loi: 



twenty miles east of Springfield, marched, April 19, 
1775, the company of Captain Freeborn Moulton, 
which remained on service thirteen days, and of which 
company a "Theodorus Bliss" was one of the privates 
("Archives," Secretary of State's Department, Bos- 
ton) ; possibly the two names may be identical. We 
read too that when, early in the spring of 1775, two 
English officers. Captain William Browne, of the 5 2d, 
and Ensign Henry De Birniere, of the loth, visited 
Concord as spies for Governor Gage, they dined at 
the house of Theodore's brother^ Daniel Bliss, who, 
on their remarking that the people would not fight, 
asserted that "he knew better, and pointing to his 
brother, then passing in sight of the house, replied, 
'There goes a man who will fight you in blood up to 
your knees.' " 

Captain Bliss was attached to Colonel Patterson's 
regiment just before the battle of Bunker Hill, and 
the history of his company until the termination of 
the men's second enlistment in December, 1776, is 
contained in this memoir. That part of the company 
which with the rest of the detachment under Major 
Sherburne formed the relief for Major Butterfield 
and the garrison at the Cedars in Canada, surrendered 
May 20, 1776, to Captain Forster^ of the British 
army. An exchange of prisoners was agreed to one 
week later by Forster and General Arnold, and 
four American captains were sent to Quebec as hos- 
tages for its safe performance; these were Captains 
Ebenezer Sullivan, of Scammon's Massachusetts regi- 
ment, Theodore T. Bliss, of Patterson's Massa- 
chusetts regiment, John Stevens, of Burrall's Connecti- 
cut regiment, and Ebenezer Green, of Bedel's New 
Hampshire Rangers. Sherburne's and Sullivan's ac- 
counts of the affair will be found in Force's "Ameri- 

^ Harper's Magazine, Vol. L, p. 780, December, 1874-May, 1875. 
^ See Note 22. 

1:1023 



can Archives," 4th Series, Vol. VI, and in 5 th Series, 
Vol. I, p. 1 167, is given a letter from Captain Bliss 
to his brother-in-law, the Rev. William Emerson, dated 
Montreal, August 4, 177,6. Sullivan was exchanged 
in 1778, Stevens in February, 1782, and Green was on 
parole to 1779. Bliss, released on parole, returned 
to Philadelphia by water and reached the American 
camp in the vicinit}'^ of Trenton, New Jersey, just after 
the battle at that place (December, 1776). 

He enlisted January i, 1777, as captain of Company 
7, in Colonel John Lamb's 2d Regiment of Artillery, 
New York Line, and was probably the one captain of 
artillery who, according to Heath's "Memoirs," was 
wounded June 28, 1778, at Monmouth. The account 
that he was a prisoner and exchanged in December 
is erroneous. General Heath, writing to Generals 
Riedesel and Hamilton, October 28, 1778, from head- 
quarters, Boston, states that the British troops, under 
the Saratoga Convention, were to leave for Virginia 
in a few days, and that as they were so desirous that 
Captain Richard Masters of the 24th should go to 
New York with a report for Sir H. Clinton, he was 
willing, provided he should first go to General Wash- 
ington's headquarters accompanied by Captain Bliss 
and paying the latter's expenses. The despatches 
were stopped at headquarters and forwarded thence 
by Washington, who incidentally consented that Mas- 
ters could be exchanged for Bliss. This, however, 
was not effected, as Bliss subsequently attended Major- 
General William Phillips to Virginia, the latter writ- 
ing February 28, 1779, from Fredericksburg to Clin- 
ton, begging the captain's exchange as a particular 
favor. 

It was only a few days before this that Washing- 
ton had informed the British commander of the re- 
cent resolve passed by Congress that officers who had 
broken their parole should be returned to the enemy. 



In May Bliss was ordered to New York, and the 
Massachusetts House of Representatives, upon his 
petition, granted him a certain sum and "thirty pounds 
a month to be paid to his wife during his detention 
in the hands of the enemy, for the better support of 
herself and family," all such sums to be charged to the 
United States. The following month, upon the peti- 
tion of several officers of Colonel Lamb's Regiment 
of Artillery, "praying that they may rank the same as 
if in one of the fifteen battalions raised by the State of 
Massachusetts," the same was granted only in the case 
of "Theodore Bliss, late a captain in Colonel Patterson's 
regiment." He was evidently soon released and re- 
turned to Boston on parole, where we read of a pay- 
ment of £1200 made to him in July, 1780, by the 
Town Treasurer for one of the eleven horses pur- 
chased by Captain Fellows for use of the Continental 
army. 

The following notice appeared in the Continental 
Journal under date of Boston, June 28, 1781: "I 
take this method to inform the public that I despise 
the scandalous report and likewise the ridiculous au- 
thor of the unjust aspersion thrown on my character 
in my absence; I have always most strictly adhered to 
my parole and ever shall 'til I am regularly exchanged; 
and as I am not answerable for my conduct to any 
but my superior officers, and never went to York without 
proper passports, if at any time such as are pleased to 
will call upon me, they shall have a satisfactory answer 
from their humble Servant, Theodore Bliss, Captain 
Artillery." 

In August, 1782, he was permitted a license as inn- 
holder at his house in Corn Court, and on June 25, 
1789, was married by the Rev. Samuel Parker to his 
second wife, Huldah Delano, and was still on the town 
tax-list in 1790. He had several daughters, one of 
whom married, January i, 1797, Captain William 



Cunningham. Captain Bliss died, intestate, at Cam- 
bridge, September i, 1802, aged fifty-eight years. 

Note 14, Page 14 

Greenwood subsequently describes the works on 
Prospect Hill more particularly. Patterson's regi- 
ment, however, after the battle was stationed at Fort 
No. 3, which served as a connecting link between the 
works on Prospect Hill to the northwest and the Cam- 
bridge Lines, or No. 2, which extended southwesterly 
from the point where Broadway crosses the top of 
Dana (or Butler's) Hill to Fort No. i on the Charles 
River. Fort No. 3, a little outside of Cambridge 
bounds, was just south of the main road between Cam- 
bridge and Charlestown (Washington Street, Somer- 
ville), and opposite the point where it is entered from 
the north by the old Charleston Lane or Milk Row 
Road (now Milk Street, Somerville). This was 
doubtless the precise spot (Jack Tuft's storehouse) 
that the regiment had occupied during the battle of 
Bunker Hill. (Page's "History of Cambridge," 
etc.) After July 22, 1775, the American army was 
divided into three grand divisions. The central divi- 
sion and reserve at Cambridge was commanded by 
Major-General Israel Putnam, and of this division 
the first brigade, under Brigadier-General William 
Heath and encamped at Prospect Hill and vicinity, 
consisted of the six Massachusetts regiments of Patter- 
son at Fort No. 3, Scammon at Fort No. i, Prescott 
at Sewall's Point, Heath at Fort No. 2 (in place of 
General Ward), Gerrish at Chelsea, Maiden, etc., and 
Colonel Phinney. The other brigade was composed 
of the regiments of Putnam, Glover, Frye, Bridge, 
Sergeant, and Woodbridge. In the absence of a 
national ensign there floated over them, soon after, 
the crimson standard of "Old Put," bearing the 
emblems and motto of his native colony. 



Note 15, Page 14 

Some reminiscences of John Greenwood's elder and 
youngest brothers, Isaac and William Pitt, have 
already been given in Notes 2 and 3. The former, 
Isaac Greenwood, Jr., who in 1775 advertises "ladies' 
umbrellas" for sale at Salem, also prepared an in- 
teresting memoir of his own personal adventures 
during the War of Independence, but his eldest son, 
the late Hon. John Greenwood, of Brooklyn, New 
York, wrote me in May, 1859, saying: "I regret the 
memoir or journal to which you refer has been mislaid 
or abstracted. I have looked for it several times in 
vain." Subsequently I found in my library some num- 
bers of a New York magazine entitled the Literary 
Companion, wherein, in August, 1821, had been 
published an extract from the journal, signed with 
the initials W. L. G. My late father immediately 
recognized the article as an incident of his uncle's life 
which he had often heard related, and the initials as 
those of a cousin, William Langley Greenwood. The 
time indicated was the winter of 178 1-2. The writer 
had received in some engagement a severe saber cut 
over the head from which he suffered throughout his 
whole life, and the account presents an anachronism 
for which due allowance must be made. 

"I entered, at New London, on board the brig New 
Broom, a vessel mounting sixteen guns and commanded 
by one Bishop, and sailed thence on a cruise among the 
West India islands. After being out about five weeks 
the captain became delirious, and in a few days after, 
owing to the misconduct of the first lieutenant, we 
were captured by a British sloop-of-war and carried 
into St. John's, Antigua, where we were all put on 
board a prison-ship which lay in a cove on one side 
of the harbor where the heat was so severe as to be 
almost insupportable. We were allowed here but 

1:1063 



barely enough to maintain nature, and the water they 
gave us was taken out of a pond a little back of the 
town, in which the cattle and negroes commingled 
every sort of impurity, £ind which was rendered on 
this account so nauseous that it was impossible to drink 
it without holding the nostrils. 

"I soon found that life was to be supported but a 
short time here, and set myself, therefore, about con- 
triving some way to effect my escape from this float- 
ing place of misery and torment. The doctor came 
on board every morning to examine the sick, and three 
negro sextons every night to bury the dead. 

"Early one morning I swallowed tobacco-juice and 
was so sick by the time the doctor came that I obtained 
without difficulty a permit from him to go on shore 
to the hospital. I was soon ready to disembark, for 
I had previously been robbed of everything except 
what I had on. After arriving at the hospital I was 
conducted into a long room where lay more than two 
hundred of the most miserable objects imaginable, 
covered with rags and vermin. I threw myself down 
on a bunk, and after suffering extremely for some 
time from the effects of the tobacco, went to sleep, but 
was soon waked by a man nurse, who told me that 
there was a physic for me and immediately went off 
to another. I contrived, unperceived, to throw my 
dose out of the window, and was not again disturbed 
except during the following night, when I was waked 
several times by the carrying out of the dead. The 
sickness occasioned by the tobacco having now ceased, 
it was still necessary to keep up the deception, and 
accordingly, the next morning, I feigned lameness. 
The doctor told me that my fever had settled in my 
legs and said that I must walk about the yard as 
much as I could. I was extremely rejoiced at this good 
advice and lost no time in following it, hobbling off 
to a row of small buildings which were detached from 



the hospital where I smelt the reviving flavor of soup, 
and soon after, upon a bell's ringing, I experienced 
the indescribable joy of partaking of a bowlful of it, 
which was served out to those of the sick who could eat. 

"Farther on than this there was another small house, 
separate from the others, where I observed the nurses 
and cooks to be coming in and going out. I limped 
up to this place, stopped in front of the house, and, 
wearing a very doleful look, chanced to catch the at- 
tention of the steward who lived there. 'Come in 
here, you Yankee dog,' says he, 'I like the looks of 
you.' I accordingly went in and sat down. He in- 
quired my name, birth, etc., and we very soon be- 
came familiar. Our conversation was interrupted by 
his being called away, but he gave me a general invita- 
tion to call and see him, and I called the next day. 
Although on this occasion he was as sociable as he had 
been the day before, I observed a melancholy to be 
cast over his countenance, and plainly perceived that 
there was something that was to him a source of 
grief. From the interest which he had taken in my 
situation I could not but sympathize in his affliction, 
and begged him, therefore, to disclose to me the cause 
of it. 

" 'I can,' says he, 'have no apprehension from 
you. I am an American; my father is a refugee and is 
now in Halifax. The pay I get here don't half support 
me and I am therefore involved in debt; besides all, 
I am the father of a child which I must provide for or 
go to prison. I have not the means to do so, so you 
can perceive how unfortunate my position is. There 
is no other way for me to avoid my difficulties but by 
leaving the island in some way or other.' 

"I begged him to endeavor to take me with him, 
which he promised to do. 

" 'There is a friend of mine. Captain King,' said he, 
'who lives in town, and if you are able to walk I will 



I 



lend you some clothes and we will go to-morrow and 
see him.' 

" 'You will see,' rejoined I, 'whether I am able or 
not to walk, after I get cut of the yard.' 

"The next day, after he had pledged himself to 
the sentinel for my safe return, we went together to 
Captain King's. The latter had been formerly a 
British naval officer, but from disaffection or for some 
other reason had left the service. To him the steward 
revealed his situation and cast himself upon his gen- 
erosity. He told the steward to call and dine with 
him the next day, and bring with him one or two more 
from among the prisoners who were desirous of escap- 
ing, and that he would hit upon a plan to assist us. 

"We accordingly went the next day and took with 
us an American prisoner who was employed as a nurse 
in the hospital and who. In the habit of a sailor, 
carried the steward's clothes. We received a hearty 
welcome, dined and drank plentifully of Captain King's 
wine. After dinner he asked me if I understood man- 
aging a boat and knew the situation of the islands. 
Upon my replying in the affirmative he bid me come 
up-stairs with him and, on entering the chamber, told 
me to divest myself completely. 

" 'What,' asked I, 'are you going to do with me?' 

" 'I am going,' said he, 'to metamorphose you Into 

a British officer of the navy; and d n you,' he 

added, 'don't flinch.' 

"I was accordingly furnished by him with a suit of 
his former uniform clothes (a lieutenant's), and 
powdered Inside and out. He gave me also a loaded 
pistol and one to the steward, and put into my hand 
a blank letter, superscribed to one Major Thomas 
who was navy-agent. 

" 'Go down to King's Wharf,' said he, ' you and the 
steward walking together and the sailor behind you, 
and there agree with one of the drogers (or packet- 

1:1093 



boats) to take you on board the Daphne frigate, 
which lies in St. John's Road. When you have passed 
the fort and he hauls his wind to stand for the frigate, 
you must, taking the letter out of your pocket, feign 
great surprise and exclaim that you have neglected to 
deliver it to Major Thomas. The captain of the boat 
will tell you directly (for they all know him) that he 
Is not in town but has gone down to his estate at Five 
Islands on the west coast. You must then agree with 
him to carry you there, for you must see him as the 
vessel can't go to sea without bread. After you arrive 
abreast of Five Islands, your escape must depend 
upon yourselves. You must take possession of the 
vessel and carry her into Montserrat or Saint Chris- 
topher's,^ of both which islands the French are now 
in possession, and then you are safe.' 

"We showered many blessings upon the captain and, 
bidding him farewell, followed the directions he had 
given us. All, however, had like to have been de- 
tected, in which case we must have been either hung 
or shot. Being under the effects of the wine and also 
much elated with my new rigging, I made an unusual 
blustering on the wharf, where we were surrounded 
by real navy officers. Some of them observed that I 

made a d d noise ! 'I think so,' says another; 'who 

the devil Is he?' But while they were thus comment- 
ing the captain of the packet-boat pushed off and we 
got clear of them. 

"The sloop was manned with five stout negroes and 
a white captain. We succeeded In obtaining posses- 
sion of her and arrived the next day at Montserrat, 
which was thirty miles to the southwest, where we re- 
ported ourselves to the commanding officer and re- 

'^ St. Kitt's was taken on the I2th and Montserrat on the 22d of 
February, 1782. Hon. Matthew Fortescue was appointed captain, 
May 24, 1782, of the Daphne, twenty guns, and was on the home 
service in January, 1783. 



mained a few days. Thence we sailed, under con- 
voy of a French armed schooner (a national vessel) 
for Guadeloupe, where we soon arrived and whence 
we set out for the United States in an American 
ship. This was not, however, without having first 
suffered much from the treachery of the French cap- 
tain, who, on his arrival at Basseterre on this island, 
the port to which we were bound, went on shore and 
reported us as an English prize and had us conveyed 
by a guard of soldiers to jail. On our way thither 
the street was illuminated and the soldiers, exulting, 
brutally pricked us with their bayonets. We were 
there confined, but on the next day the perfidy of the 
captain was brought to light through the exertions of 
a friend of the steward's, to whom the latter contrived 
to make known his situation, and who went to the gov- 
ernor and disclosed the whole transaction. A court 
of inquiry was held; we were released and the French 
captain committed for a trial by court-martial." 

As to Captain Bishop of New London, who com- 
manded the New Broom and to whom reference is 
made at the commencement of the account, I find by 
the Connecticut Gazette, published in New London, 
that his name was Israel Bishop. The first advertise- 
ment relative to the privateer-brigantine New Broom 
is dated Wethersfield, July 25, 1778, at which time 
she was lying in the Connecticut River, and was to 
sail from New London, toward September, on a 
cruise off Sandy Hook, etc. She was taken in Boston 
Bay and brought into New York, October 27, by the 
British sloop-of-war Ariel, 20, Captain Thomas 
Mackenzie. Bishop was probably soon exchanged, 
and on Monday, October 8, 1 781, it is stated that he 
reached New London, having arrived two days before 
in his brig Betsey at Newport in thirty-one days from 
Granada, West Indies. From this we gather that 
in the foregoing extract two events of Isaac Green- 

CO 



wood's life are confounded. We see that the New 
Broom, Bishop, was captured and taken into New 
York in October, 1778, and we know that Greenwood 
was at one time confined as a prisoner in the old Crown 
(Liberty) Street sugar-house, near the Middle Dutch 
Church. He escaped from that place by a passage- 
way dug beneath the walls, across the street, into 
the cellar of a house opposite; thence, making his way 
by night to the shore, he swam off to a sloop, rested 
on the deck till near daylight, and again taking to the 
water, reached the opposite banks near Hoboken, and 
pushed on to Hackensack. On the occasion of his 
being carried a prisoner to Antigua, though he may 
have been with his old captain, Israel Bishop, it was 
evidently not in the privateer New Broom. Possibly it 
was in the Brutus, of Salem, Captain W. Coles, as his 
son, the late Judge John Greenwood, presented to the 
Long Island Historical Society in 1863 the rough, 
serviceable cutlass of his father, with its wooden 
handle, iron guard, black leather sheath, and broad 
belt, and inscribed on the inside with the name of "the 
ship Brutus." 

After the war Isaac Greenwood lived in Providence, 
Rhode Island, until his removal in 18 10 to New York, 
where he died, October 21, 1829, aged seventy-one 
years. His remains lie in Greenwood Cemetery, be- 
neath a slab suitably inscribed. 

Note 16, Page 20 

November 9, 1775, Lieutenant-Colonel George 
Clark, of the 43d Foot, landed under cover of the 
Cerberus, 36, Captain Chads, on Lechmere's Point 
(Phipp's farm), which at high water was an island. 
Clark had with him six companies of light infantry 
and a hundred grenadiers, about 600 men in all. He 
was driven off with the loss of two men, and carried 
away ten cows belonging to Mr. Ireland. The Ameri- 



cans, who were exposed the whole time to a warm 
fire from the forts in Charlestown and one in Boston, 
also lost two men by grape from the Cerberus. The 
repulsing party consisted of Colonel Thompson's regi- 
ment of riflemen and parts of Woodbridge's and Pat- 
terson's regiments. Major Mifflin (afterward first 
governor of the State of Pennsylvania) particularly 
distinguished himself at the time. Washington in his 
report says: "The alacrity of the riflemen and officers 
upon the occasion did them honor, to which Colonel 
Patterson's regiment and some others were equally en- 
titled." 

Heath's "Memoirs" and Silliman's "Journal" both 
mention the fortifying of Lechmere's Point. A new 
causeway connecting it with Patterson's post at Fort 
No. 3 was begun December 12, 1775, and five days 
later, by order of General Putnam, 300 men broke 
ground on top of the hill at the point, about half 
a mile from the shipping. These defenses, notwith- 
standing severe cannonading at times, were finished 
and mounted, February 25, with some heavy pieces. 

Note 17, Page 21 

A similar incident is mentioned in a letter of July 
12, 1775 (Allison's "Remembrances," 1775), and 
Frothingham, in his "Siege of Boston," p. 213, refers 
to the same. Rament's name is given on the regimental 
return as Shubael Raymond, of Boston; he is un- 
doubtedly the same party referred to in General 
Orders at Ticonderoga, November 5, 1776. Firing 
of small arms was forbidden in General Orders of 
July 4 and 26, 1775. 

Note 18, Page 22 

At this point in the memoir mention might have 
been made of the fact that on September 13, 1775, 
men were drafted out of the different regiments for 



Arnold's expedition up the Kennebec River and 
through the wilderness to Quebec. From Patterson's 
regiment went twenty-five men, a sergeant, a corporal, 
and a drum. Captain Thomas Williams, of Stock- 
bridge, Captain William Goodrich, of Great Barring- 
ton, Massachusetts, and First Lieutenant John Cums- 
ton (or Comston), of Saco, District of Maine. 
Cumston and three privates were from Captain T. 
T. Bliss's company. Both Captain Goodrich and Lieu- 
tenant Cumston were taken in the attack upon Que- 
bec toward the close of the year, and remaining 
prisoners till their exchange, May i8, 1776, arrived 
in a transport, September 24, at Elizabeth, New Jersey. 
Captain Thomas Williams returned from the mouth 
of the Dead River on October 25 with Lieutenant- 
Colonel R. Enos. 



Note 19, Page 23 

The party of 130 from General Heath's and Gen- 
eral Frye's brigades, which, on January 8, 1776, burned 
the few remaining houses left standing in Charlestown, 
was composed of men from Colonel John Greaton's 
24th Regiment and Colonel John Patterson's 15th 
Regiment, commanded by Major Thomas Knowlton. 
It was divided between Majors Richard Carey and 
David Henly, with orders for the former to first fire 
the houses most distant from the dam. Through some 
error, however, Henly, of Heath's brigade, executed 
his injunctions first. Of the enemy one man was killed 
and five taken prisoners. General Putnam and his 
staff watched the manoeuver from Cobble Hill, and the 
party was thanked next day in General Orders. Other 
officers interested were Captain Edward P. Williams, 
First Lieutenant Samuel Foster, and Ensign Thomas 
Cheney; Captain Jacob Goold and First Lieutenant 
Elijah Shaw from Greaton's regiment; Captain Wil- 

i:"43 



liam Wyman, First Lieutenant William A. Patterson 
(of Captain Noble's company), and Second Lieutenant 
Joshua Trafton (or Traston) from Patterson's regi- 
ment. 

Note 20, Page 25 

The American forces left Boston for New York 
as follows : 

On Friday, March 15, 1776, Brigadier-General 
William Heath was ordered to set out with some 
artillery and the five regiments of Patterson, Greaton, 
Stark, Bond, and Webb. They reached New Lon- 
don on the 26th, sailed the next day, and on Satur- 
day the 30th at noon marched into New York. Heath 
resigned the chief command, April 3, to General Put- 
nam, who had then arrived. The brigade of Major- 
General John Sullivan, which had left Boston March 
27, reached New York April 10 with six regiments 
and two companies with light artillery, and by the 14th 
there were eleven regiments present in the city, with 
five more on Long Island and one. Colonel Patter- 
son's, on Staten Island. On April i Brigadier-Gen- 
eral Greene, with five more regiments and a detach- 
ment of artillery, was ordered to set out from Bos- 
ton, and on the 4th the commander-in-chief left the 
town with the last division of five regiments and the 
balance of the artillery under Brigadier-General 
Joseph Spencer. Washington arrived in New York 
on the 13th and his lady on the 17th. 

On April 15 four regiments under Brigadier-Gen- 
eral William Thompson were ordered from New 
York to Canada by way of the lakes. These regi- 
ments were the 8th, Colonel Enoch Poor; the 15th, 
Colonel John Patterson; the 24th, Colonel John Grea- 
ton, and the 25th, Colonel William Bond. A return 
of them, dated four days later, is given in "Ameri- 
can Archives," 4th Series, Vol. V, p. 986. Sailing 



from the city on Sunday the 21st, the party reached 
Albany on the 26th, and finally arrived, May 13, at 
Chambly, to the north of St. Johns. 

Note 21, Page 25 

A brief summary of the various changes in the com- 
mand which took place toward the close of the Cana- 
dian campaign may not be here out of place. It was 
at first designed that Major-General Charles Lee 
should succeed General Montgomery, who had fallen 
before Quebec, December 31, 1775, but when the 
former was placed over the Southern Department, 
Brigadier-General John Thomas, then before Boston, 
was raised to the rank of major-general and appointed 
to take active command of the Continental forces at 
the north, since ill health prevented General Schuyler 
from so doing. Meanwhile leadership of the be- 
sieging army at Quebec was assumed by Arnold until 
the arrival, on April i, of his superior officer, 
Brigadier-General David Wooster, who, after having 
remained inactive during the winter at Montreal, had 
now left Colonel Moses Hazen, of the 2d Canadian 
Regiment or "Congress' Own," in charge there. A 
fall of his horse having disabled his wounded leg, 
Arnold quitted the camp before Quebec on Friday, 
April 12, and withdrew to Montreal, where, taking 
command, he sent Hazen down to St. Johns, Cham- 
bly, etc. General Wooster presently gave place to 
Major-General John Thomas, who, having reached 
Montreal April 26, arrived before Quebec five days 
later. As the English were now rapidly advancing 
up the river and were receiving and expecting power- 
ful reinforcements. General Thomas retreated. May 
5, to Point Deschambault, and afterward to the mouth 
of the Sorel. He died at Chambly from smallpox, 
June 2, 1776. 

i:"63 



The congressional commissioners, Franklin, Chase, 
and Carroll, arrived on April 29 at Montreal and 
lodged at the house of Thomas Walker. As soon 
as news reached the city that British men-of-war were 
down the river below Quebec, Franklin and the Rev. 
John Carroll started. May 11, 1776, by boat for Fort 
George, whence General Schuyler wrote to Congress 
on the 28th that they had left for Albany "on my 
chariot, which they are to take soon to New York." 
Arnold likewise left Montreal on May 1 1 to confer 
with General Thomas at Sorel, and by the advice 
of the commissioners Colonel Patterson was ordered 
to advance from St. Johns, twenty-seven miles dis- 
tant, and occupy the city with his regiment as a garri- 
son. On May 15 Arnold wrote the remaining com- 
missioner, Samuel Chase, of Maryland, "I am glad 
Patterson has been sent for; I believe he will give 
satisfaction"; and again, three days later, "I think it 
advisable to innoculate Colonel Patterson's regiment 
at Montreal." Patterson arrived on the 15th, his men 
taking the place of Colonel James Clinton's 3d New 
York (Ulster County) MiHtia, whose time was out. 
The next day, being in command at Montreal, Patter- 
son despatched to the Cedars the relief party alluded 
to in the memoir. Colonel Greaton's regiment was 
now ordered to advance from Sorel for the support 
of the garrison, and it remained in the city till May 
31, when Sullivan's brigade began to arrive. This 
latter officer, through representations of the commis- 
sioners, had been appointed to succeed General 
Thomas in place of General Wooster, recalled. Pat- 
terson's and Reed's regiments were in Montreal on 
June 15 when Arnold abandoned the city, at which time 
also General Sullivan retreated from his position at 
the mouth of the Sorel toward St. Johns. 

Previous to this retreat General Sullivan had 
planned the battle of Three Rivers, and despatched 



Brigadier-General William Thompson to attack the 
enemy at that point. The expedition failed, and 
Thompson, Colonel William Irvine, and a portion of 
his Pennsylvania regiment were taken prisoners. 
Later, in June, the chief command of the Northern 
Army was conferred upon Major-General Horatio 
Gates, and Sullivan returned to New York and was 
taken prisoner at the battle of Long Island, August 
27 following. 

Note 22, Page 26 

Colonel Timothy Bedel, of the New Hampshire 
Rangers, who commanded at the Cedars, hearing that 
Captain George Forster^ was advancing against him 
from the mouth of the Oswegatchie (now Ogdens- 
burg), under the pretense of going to Montreal for 
reinforcements, left the garrison in command of Ma- 
jor Isaac Butterfield, "an officer quite as void of 
courage as his superior." Forster had with him forty 
regulars of the 8th (or King's) Regiment, a hundred 
Canadians and 500 Indians under Brant, and "no 
artillery," says the English account. On the morning 
of Sunday, May 19, he began heavy fire of musketry, 
and Butterfield quietly surrendered without any show 
of resistance. The two pieces of field artillery (brass 
6-pounders) with which the garrison was provided 
thus fell into the hands of the enemy and were the 
cannon alluded to in the memoir. 

Colonel Patterson had meanwhile despatched (May 
16) the relief party from his own regiment at 
Montreal, and Major Sherburne, who had just arrived 
in the city, offering to command the same, received 
therefore the thanks of the congressional commis- 
sioners. Chase and Carroll. The major marched, but 
could not find boats to cross till Saturday the i8th. 

' In November, 1776, major of the 21st or Royal North British 
Fusiliers. 



He recrossed, however, that same evening, being fear- 
ful of an attack, since Captain Bhss, while looking for 
teams, had been taken prisoner only two miles from 
the landing-place by some savages and Canadians. 
On the following day, owing to the weather, only one 
boat crossed the river, but Captain Sullivan, who was 
in it, went to the priest's house where Bliss was con- 
fined and procured his release. On the 20th the whole 
party again crossed and Sherburne, leaving a guard 
of forty men, marched with about a hundred men 
for the Cedars, nine miles distant. After proceeding 
some five miles he fell into the ambuscade as described 
by Greenwood, toward five o'clock in the evening. A 
fierce battle raged for an hour and a half, when the 
Indians, having completely encircled them, rushed 
down upon the little band, disarmed them, and 
butchered about twenty, stripping the remainder and 
driving them in triumph to the fort. The Americans 
lost altogether fifty-eight and the enemy twenty-two, 
among whom was a Seneca brave. Captain John Mc- 
Kinstry's company had particularly distinguished it- 
self, and that officer the Indians, from revenge, had 
determined to torture. Brant interposed, however, 
and with some English officers purchased an ox which 
was roasted instead of the prisoner. Some accounts 
say that the captain was only released from the stake 
when the great chief observed him making the masonic 
sign of distress. 

On the succeeding day, according to Stedman's "His- 
tory of the War," Forster advanced to Vaudreuil, 
six miles north of the Cedars, and on the 24th, 
having received intelligence that the enemy, under 
Colonel Arnold, had posted themselves at La Chine, 
nine miles from Montreal, he marched to attempt their 
dislodgment. He had advanced to within three miles 
of the place when, learning the number of the Ameri- 
cans, he retreated to Vaudreuil. Arnold with 700 

f93 



men came up the river on Sunday the 26th to attack 
him, but on the succeeding day a cartel was agreed 
upon and signed for the exchange of two majors (Sher- 
burne and Butterfield), nine captains, twenty sub- 
alterns and 443 soldiers. It was agreed that four 
American captains should be sent to Quebec as hostages 
and remain there until the prisoners were exchanged; 
these were Captains Ebenezer Sullivan and Theodore 
T, Bliss of Sherburne's party, and Captains John 
Stevens and Ebenezer Green of Major Butterfield's 
party. 

Note 23, Page 26 

On May 3, 1775, it was voted by the Rhode Island 
Assembly that a brigade of three regiments, 1500 
men, be raised and enlisted to December, as part of 
an army of observation for the defense of the 
colony, and Nathanael Greene, Jr., was appointed 
brigadier-general. The three regiments were officered 
as follows: 

1. Colonel Daniel Hitchcock; Lieutenant-Colonel 
Ezekiel Cornell; Major Israel Agnell; for 
Providence County; eight companies. 

2. Colonel James Mitchell Varnum; Lieutenant- 
Colonel James Babcock; Major Christopher 
Green; for King's County and Kent; eight com- 
panies. 

3. Colonel Thomas Church; Lieutenant-Colonel 
William Turner Miller; Major John Forrester, 
whose place was soon taken by Major Henry 
Sherburne; for Newport and Bristol counties; 
seven companies and one company of artillery, 
Captain (later Major) John Crane. 

A small force of not more than 250 men was soon 
despatched en route toward Boston, and encamped on 
Jamaica Plains, some little distance southwest of Rox- 

1:120] 



bury. They were under command of Lieutenant-Colo- 
nel William T. Miller of the 3d Regiment. General 
Greene arrived on Saturday, May 27, and the next day 
Colonel Hitchcock and Lieutenant-Colonel Cornell, 
Major Sherburne coming into camp toward evening. 
Soon after other companies, including the train of 
artillery with four field-pieces, arrived.^ June 17 some 
of the Rhode Island men participated in the battle 
of Bunker Hill, but the most of them were drawn out 
under arms as a reserve. Eleven days later the As- 
sembly voted that the Rhode Island troops be put 
under the command of the general of the combined 
army, and when Washington arrived, July 3, one 
Rhode Island regiment and the New Hampshire 
troops occupied the entrenchments thrown up on 
Prospect Hill, and the other Rhode Island regiments 
were at Sewall's farm. After July 22 the three Rhode 
Island regiments, with four Massachusetts regiments, 
composed the brigade, under Brigadier-General 
Greene, which was part of the left wing, or Second 
Division, of the army commanded by Major-General 
Lee. 

At a Council of General Officers held at Cambridge, 
November 2, 1775, for choosing the colonels, lieu- 
tenant-colonels, and majors for the new army (appoint- 
ments to take effect after January i, 1776), Major 
Henry Sherburne was assigned to Colonel John Patter- 
son's 15th (Massachusetts) Regiment. On November 
28 he was a member of the Court of Inquiry at Cam- 
bridge for examining into the conduct of Lieutenant- 
Colonel Roger Enos, who had returned from Colonel 
Arnold's expedition to Quebec. 

Henry Sherburne, of Newport, Rhode Island (son 

^ Church, Miller, and Sherburne and Adjutants Bradford and 
Box were quartered in the Bradford House, Roxbury. ("New 
England Historical and Genealogical Register," Vol. XI, pp. 136- 
140.) 



probably of Colonel BenjaminSherburne of that place), 
a graduate in 1759 of the College of New Jersey, was 
about thirty-five years of age when appointed, in 1775, 
major of the 3d Rhode Island Regiment. Subsequently, 
as will be seen from the memoir, he reached New York, 
March 30, 1776, as major of Colonel John Patterson's 
15th (Massachusetts) Regiment, and on April 4 was 
despatched to Philadelphia by General Putnam with a 
letter to President Hancock applying for cash on ac- 
count of the Continental forces then in the city. Con- 
gress voted on the 9th that $200,000 be sent on by 
Major Sherburne. Detained thus on official business, 
Sherburne did not reach Montreal until his regiment 
was located there, and he immediately offered his serv- 
ices to take command of the relief party about to be de- 
spatched (May 16) to the Cedars. His account of this 
affair can be seen in the "American Archives," 4th 
Series, Vol. VI, p. 598, dated New York, June 18, 
when he was on his way to lay the whole unhappy 
case before Congress. He also carried a letter from 
General Arnold, dated Montreal, June 2, addressed 
to the congressional commissioners. Chase and Car- 
roll, on their way from Canada to Philadelphia 
("American Archives," 5th Series, Vol. I, p. 165, etc.). 
On July 15 Congress allowed him fifty-five dollars for 
his expenses since leaving Canada (June 6), with fur- 
ther allowance of eight days' expenses to join his regi- 
ment at Ticonderoga. About the middle of November 
the regiment was ordered to proceed southward as soon 
as boats could be procured on Lake George and to join 
General Washington's forces. Sherburne's letter to 
Major-General Gates while en route, dated Esopus, 
December 12, is in "American Archives," 5th Series, 
Vol. Ill, p. 1 192. 

On October 28, 1776, the Rhode Island Assembly 
resolved that two battalions be immediately raised by 
the State, agreeable to requisition of the Continental 

C122;] 



Congress, and appointed to the First Battalion Colonel 
James M. Varnum (who declined), Lieutenant-Colonel 
Adam Comstock (who died in Saratoga County, New 
York, April lo, 1819, aged eighty years), and Major 
Henry Sherburne; David Hitchcock was appointed 
colonel of the Second Battalion. Sherburne had been 
recommended by General Washington among other 
officers for the new establishment, in a letter to Gov- 
ernor Cook dated from headquarters, Harlem Heights, 
October 12. 

In May, 1777, Sherburne was colonel in command 
of one of the sixteen additional battalions raised by 
order of Congress, and in the fall and spring of 1778-9 
his regiment appears to have been at Seaconnet. In 
April, 1780, when they were quartered at Parasmus, 
that place was attacked by a party of the enemy, who 
fired the house which had been occupied by the regi- 
ment and took fifty-two prisoners, including several 
officers. 

In May, 1782, Henry Sherburne, Esq., who had 
retired from service in January, 178 1, was a deputy 
from Newport to the Rhode Island General Assembly. 
In December, 1783, the officers of the Society of the 
Cincinnati in Rhode Island were: Major-General 
Nathanael Greene, president; Major-General James M. 
Varnum, vice-president ; Colonel Henry Sherburne, sec- 
retary, etc. In May, 1784, he was appointed to assist 
the secretary in preparing the "Acts and Orders of the 
General Assembly" for the press, and was authorized to 
hire a suitable room for his accommodation at Provi- 
dence at the expense of the State. He was also em- 
ployed to settle the accounts between his native State 
and the United States. In February, 1786, his pay for 
services in the army of the United States, amounting to 
£257:7:2, was ordered to be paid; part was paid at 
the time and the balance, with interest, voted to be paid 
in October, 1789. Toward the close of October, 1792, 

1:123:] 



he was elected by the two houses as General Treasurer 
of the State, vice Joseph Clarke, deceased, a position 
which he held until 1818. He died six years later, 
aged about eighty-four years, collector for Newport, 
Rhode Island. 

Note 24, Page 34 

Captain James Wilkinson, an aide-de-camp of Ar- 
nold, on his way down the river with a message to Gen- 
eral Sullivan at Sorel, discovered the enemy's vessels, 
delayed by a failure of wind. This was about three 
o'clock on Saturday afternoon, June 15, 1776. The 
distance was not more than fourteen miles and, having 
landed, the captain procured a horse, dashed back to 
Longueuil, got across the river, gave the alarm, and 
started off again to find Sullivan. The latter succeeded 
in getting his men safely down to Chambly (it was 
"sauve qui peut"), and Arnold, who had succeeded in 
embarking the Montreal garrison about 7 P.M., was 
but a few miles in advance. 

Arnold took with him a quantity of rum, molasses, 
wine, etc., which, as he wrote General Sullivan on the 
following day from La Prairie, he had seized for the 
use of the army. On the 17th they reached St. Johns, 
and Isle-aux-Noix the following day. Here they rested 
a week and did not arrive at Crown Point before July 
I, "almost beat out, having had very little else but salt 
pork and wheat meal for six weeks," says Colonel Wil- 
liam Bond in a letter to his wife. ("New England 
Genealogical Register," Vol. IV, p. 71.) 

At Isle-aux-Noix, on June 23, only sixteen of Patter- 
son's regiment drew rations, and, writes General Sulli- 
van to Washington the next day, "as but five of these 
were fit for duty, I have just ordered them on to Crown 
Point to join the rest of their regiment who are there, 
all sick." 

1:1243 



Note 25, Page 38 

General Gates, with the remnants of Patterson's, 
Stark's, Read's, and Poor's regiments from the North- 
ern Army, left Albany December 2, reached Goshen 
on the 8th, and the Moravian settlement of Bethlehem, 
by way of Minisink on the Delaware, on the evening 
of the 15th. Leaving this point on the 17th, he joined 
Washington three days later at his headquarters in the 
village of Newtown, on a small branch of the Nesham- 
iny. Sullivan arrived the same day with Lee's divi- 
sion, and on the 24th Gates set out for Baltimore. It 
was on Christmas night that the commander-in-chief, 
accompanied by Sullivan and Greene, crossed the Dela- 
ware about eight miles above Trenton at M'Conkey's 
Ferry (now Taylorsville or Washington's Crossing) 
with some 2400 men and twenty pieces of artillery 
under Colonel Knox. 

Note 26, Page 42 

"On Christmas-day in seventy-six, 
Our ragged troops, with bayonets fix'd, 

For Trenton marched away. 
The Delaware see ! the boats below ! 
The light obscured by hail and snow ! 
But no signs of dismay." 

— Old Song. 

Sullivan's division came down the river road and 
encountered the British advance near Rutherford's 
Place, at the southwestern part of the town. The 
enemy endeavored to form a battery in King (Warren) 
Street, near where the canal-feeder crosses the way, 
but Captain William Washington and Lieutenant James 
Monroe (afterward President) rushed forward with a 
small party and, driving off the artillerymen, captured 
two of the pieces just as the gunners were about to 
fire. 



Colonel Rahl fell by a musket-ball fired by Captain 
Frederick Frelinghuysen, of New Jersey. "The ghosts 
of forty of his countrymen accompanied him; and very 
nearly looo were made prisoners," says Weems. "The 
enemy laid down their arms on the field between the 
Presbyterian Church and Park Place, then called the 
Old Iron Works," according to Lossing. The trophies 
were six brass field-pieces, lOOO stands of arms, twelve 
drums, and four colors. These latter, the first cap- 
tured by General Washington, included the splendid 
Anspacher flag, afterward in the museum at Alex- 
andria. The first flag taken during the war and sus- 
pended over the speaker's chair in Congress was the 
regimental one of the garrison at St. Johns, Canada, 
which surrendered to General Montgomery in Novem- 
ber, 1775. 

Captain John Polhemus, of the ist New Jersey 
Regiment, says in his diary that the prisoners were con- 
fined "in Newtown jail and yard. There being a severe 
snowstorm the officers were quartered in the same 
house with General Patterson and myself." The men 
were allowed their baggage and sent off to the western 
counties of Pennsylvania with their packs unsearched. 

Note 27, Page 50 

In several books published toward the beginning of 
the eighteenth century, giving descriptions or represen- 
tations of the world's marine flags, we find the flag of 
New England.*^ English works depict it as red, with 
a red cross of St. George on a white canton, in the 
first quarter of which is the green pine-tree placed on 
the Massachusetts coinage as early as 1652. French 

^ See article on "New England and the United States Flag" by 
the writer in "Notes and Queries," London, January, 1862, pp. 72- 
74; also "Revolutionary Uniforms and Flags" in Potter's American 
Monthly, January, 1876, Vol. VI, pp. 31-34- 



and Dutch works describe the flag as blue, similarly 
cantoned, bearing in the first quarter "une sphere 
celeste," typical of America, usually called the New 
World. The writer has , a chart published at Augs- 
burg during the American Revolution, in which the flag 
still appears. ^*^ 

The Massachusetts Council in April, 1776, resolved 
that their armed cruisers should carry a white flag with 
a green pine-tree and the inscription "An Appeal to 
Heaven," being the same as had been raised during the 
previous fall over the Continental floating batteries 
around Boston. We know, too, that it was borne by 
at least one of the small armed vessels fitted out by 
General Washington which had the misfortune to fall 
into the hands of the enemy before the close of 1775. 
To this device of the tree Manley had, in the Cumber- 
land flag, added the snake and motto which appeared 
September, 1765, after the passage of the Stamp Act, 
as a heading to the Constitutional Courant, 3. single 
sheet printed at Burlington, New Jersey. In 1774 the 
Massachusetts Spy also adopted this motto and device. 

As the United States flag of thirteen alternate red 
and white horizontal stripes, with thirteen white stars 
on a blue canton, was adopted by Congress June 14, 
1777, and as Manley was a captain in the regular naval 
service though temporarily in command of a Massa- 
chusetts privateer, it would appear that he regarded 
"the stars and stripes" as peculiar to a national vessel 
of war. 

Note 28, Page 53 

Vice-Admiral Byron, of the Princess Royal, in his 
report to the Admiralty dated from Gros Islet Bay, 
St. Lucie, February 4, 1779, has the following: "The 

^^ The same chart gives the American national striped ensign 
with a golden "fleur-de-lis" over the stars, complimentary to the 
French alliance. 

1:127:] 



Pomona frigate arrived here the 2d inst., and at Bar- 
badoes the 29th of last month, having made the pas- 
sage to that island in twenty-six days from Spithead. 
Captain (Hon. William) Waldegrave fell in with and 
took an American privateer of twenty guns, called the 
Cumberland, about ten leagues to windward of Bar- 
badoes, after a chase of several hours. She had been 
but a short time from Boston, and had only taken a 
transport from Newfoundland, with some recruits for 
the Nova Scotia volunteers; which transport was dis- 
masted on the coast of America, and the Venus retook 
her with all the recruits close in with Martinique. The 
Cumberland is a new ship and sails very fast; she was 
commanded by a Mr. Manley, the same person who 
commanded the frigate called the Hancock when she 
was taken." (Almon's "Remembrancer," Vol. VII, 
p. 288.) 

Note 29, Page 57 

In December, 1 8 1 1 , Dr. John Greenwood was visited 
by Captain Thomas Pratt, of Chelsea, Massachusetts, 
whose son. Dr. Thomas Pratt (Harvard College, 1 8 1 5, 
M.D. 1818), died 1820. Greenwood and Pratt were 
then the only known survivors of the Cumberland's 
crew. 

Note 30, Page 59 

In the prison at Barbadoes the authorities had con- 
fined an old Jew, from whom Greenwood learned a 
certain song which he was accustomed to sing fre- 
quently in after life. The first verse, to the air of the 
"Countess of Coventry's Minuet," was as follows: 

"This world, my dear Myra, is full of deceit, 
And friendship's a jewel we seldom can meet; 
How strange does it seem when in looking around. 
That source of content is so scarce to be found." 



Other special favorites with him were the "Massa- 
chusetts Song of Liberty," which first appeared in 1768, 
sung to the air of "Hearts of Oak" : 

"Then join hand in hand, brave Americans all, 
By uniting we stand, by dividing we fall" ; 

and Dibdin's "Sea Song" : 

"In storms, when clouds obscure the sky. 
And thunders roll and lightnings fly, 
In midst of all these dire alarms, 
I think, my Sally, on thy charms" ; 

and the "Drum" : 

"Come each gallant lad, who for pleasure 
quits care. 

To the drum, to the drum, to the drum- 
head with spirits repair; 

Each recruit takes his glass, 

Each young soldier toasts his lass. 

While the drum beats tattoo (bis) 

We retire the sweet night to pass." 

"Another of father's songs," says his son, "remained 
impressed on my memory from youth in the following 
curious gibberish : 

" 'Dong song, carry me over, 
Vive le roi, dunkerney'; 

until one day it burst upon me that this was the French 
war-cry of 1792: 

" 'Dansons la Carmagnole, 
Vive le son du canon !' " 

1:1293 



Note 31, Page 63 

David Porter, born 1754; a native of Massachusetts 
("New England Historical and Genealogical Regis- 
ter," Vol. XXX, p. 460) ; captain in 1778 of the Mary- 
land armed sloop Delight, six guns; first lieutenant, 
July 7, 1779, of the New Hampshire armed ship Put- 
nam, Captain D. Waters, of the Penobscot expedition, 
burned August 14; captain of the Boston ship Tartar, 
twenty-eight guns, 150 men, from about November, 
1779, to May, 1780; captain of the Boston letter-of- 
marque ship Aurora, sixteen guns, from October, 1780, 
to May, 178 1. A list of the crew's names, ages, etc., 
on the last-named ship was sworn to by him, June 22, 
1 78 1, before Justice Joseph Greenleaf of Suffolk 
County, and he is described as being in "stature five 
feet, ten inches." In November, 1783, he was per- 
mitted to keep the "North End Coffee Home and 
Tavern" in Boston, opposite Hancock's Wharf. He 
removed to Baltimore and was appointed, August 5, 
1792, to the command of the U. S. revenue cutter 
Active, vice Simon Goss, and died in 1808. His eldest 
son, Commodore David Porter, was born February 
I, 1780, in Charter Street, Boston; captain, July 2, 
1 8 12; and died March 3, 1843. Commodore Porter 
was the father of Admiral David Porter, U.S.N. , who 
died in Washington, District of Columbia, February 
13, 1 89 1, aged seventy-eight years. 

Note 32, Page 66 

Boston papers of March 6, 1780, give accounts by 
which we learn that about the 4th inst. there had ar- 
rived at Portsmouth a ship of 350 tons, mounting six- 
teen 6-pounders, prize to the privateer ship Tartar, 
Captain Porter, out of Boston. She was bound from 
New York for Jamaica for a freight home, and had a 
cargo of provisions, powder, shot, etc. She had sailed 

[1303 



from New York with the West India fleet and was in 
sight of the shipping in Port Royal, Jamaica, when 
Captain Porter fell in with her, but made no resistance. 
The Tartar also took a, sloop with rum, molasses, 
cotton, etc., which had not arrived. 

The Continental Journal, also the Independent 
Chronicle, of March 9, 1780, both of Boston, give an 
extract from a Martinique letter of February 6 refer- 
ring to the above prize as having been sent to Ports- 
mouth. Porter also took the ship Wallace, William 
Stephenson, master. 

Note 2>3i Page 67 

In 1779 Captain John (or Jonathan) Carnes com- 
manded the Hector, eighteen guns, 150 men, which, as 
one of Commodore Saltonstall's squadron in the 
Penobscot expedition, was destroyed August 14 of that 
year. The brig General Lincoln, Captain John Carnes, 
from Port-au-Prince to Salem, with West India pro- 
duce, was taken Sunday, May 21, 1780, by the Iris, 
32, Captain James Hawker, then returning from 
Charleston, South Carolina, to New York,^^ where on 
July 6 her crew was paid their prize money. 

In March, 1781, Captain Carnes, of Salem, who was 
fitting at Martinique for another cruise, had sent in a 
prize brig with 200 pipes of Madeira wine. By an 
article in the Independent Chronicle (Salem), May 7, 
1 78 1, we learn that his brig Montgomery had arrived, 
having sent in three prizes; he had also engaged a 
large British cutter and lost his lieutenant and had five 
wounded. Before August he had again sailed from 
Salem in the ship Porus,^^ twenty 9-pounders, 130 men, 
which the Essex Gazette (Salem) of February 28, 

'^^ Riving ton's Gazette, May 31, 1780. 

^~ Essex Gazette, February 27, 1783, states that "the privateer 
ship Porus had arrived at Martinique with a prize ship." 



1782, states had been "lately taken Into Barbadoes." 
A sloop with forty hogsheads of rum, prize to the 
Poms, Captain Carnes, from St. Martins to Halifax, 
was carried into Salem early in June, 1782, at which 
time Carnes himself was a naval prisoner in New 
York, and we hear of him as being again carried a 
prisoner into the same port in October, when in com- 
mand of the ship Mohawk, twenty guns, eighty men, 
from Beverly. 

Note 34, Page 71 

"The commissary for the naval prisoners was a 
Scotchman named David Sproat, a fellow whose face 
put his scarlet coat out of countenance." (Dunlap's 
"History of New York.") 

"Hell has no mischief like a thirsty throat. 
Nor one tormentor like your David Sproat." 

— Frenau's "British Prison-ship." 

"I do hereby command all Captains, Commanders, 
Masters and Prize Masters of ships and other vessels, 
who bring naval prisoners into this port, immediately 
after their arrival to send a list of their names to this 
office. No. 33 in Maiden Lane, where they will receive 
an order how to dispose of them. 

"David Sproat, 
Commissary General, N. P."^^ 
New York, April 28, 1780. 

Note 35, Page 71 

Edward Watkeys's soap and candle factory. No. 19 
Nassau Street, was burned on the night of August 24, 
1808; his wife, daughter, two children, and a servant 
perished in the flames. Mr. Watkeys died about 
March, 18 13, aged seventy-three years. 

^^ Riving ton's Royal Gazette, June 30, 1780. 



Note 36, Page 73 

Probably the Race Horse, brig, six guns, fifteen men, 
Captain Nathaniel Thayer, of Massachusetts. A fast 
schooner of this name, about forty tons, was sold at 
auction, Griffin's Wharf, May 23, 1780. 

Note 37, Page 77 

General Cornwallis arrived from the Carolinas and 
took command, May 20, 1781, of the Department of 
the South at Petersburg, Virginia, uniting with the late 
General Phillips's forces, and sending Arnold, whom 
Phillips had been sent from New York to reinforce, 
back to that city. At the time Lafayette was at Rich- 
mond on the James River, but moved down later on to 
Williamsburg. Yorktown and Gloucester had been 
taken possession of by Cornwallis on August 4, and 
at the end of the month De Grasse entered the Chesa- 
peake with the French fleet. 

Washington and Rochambeau arrived at camp Sep- 
tember 14, as did, within the next ten days, the greater 
part of the American army. Investiture of the enemy 
at York began on the 28th, and a surrender was made 
October 19. 

Note 38, Page 78 

The Virginia governor, Lord Dunmore, with his few 
armed vessels (the Fowey, Otter, and Dunmore) and 
his motley flotilla of light craft, in all seventy-two sail, 
driven out from his stronghold on Gwynn's Island by 
the American shore batteries, came to anchor off the 
mouth of the Potomac July 11, 1776. In order to re- 
plenish his stock of provisions, wood, and water, and 
to procure recruits for the loyal regiment which he 
had inaugurated, a short excursion up to St. George 
Island, Hopkins Island, Nanticoke Point, and the op- 
posite eastern shore of the Chesapeake was made by 

1:133] 



the Fowey and some of the tenders. Early in August 
Dunmore was still lying off the Potomac but had 
burned some of his small craft which were unfit for 
sea, and had despatched others to the south with tory 
refugees who sought safety in Florida or the West 
Indies. On the 7th of the month he himself sailed 
from the Capes, and a week later Sir Peter Parker 
brought his lordship's fleet of twenty-five sail into 
Sandy Hook, whence he departed on November 13 
for England with a large number of transports con- 
voyed by the Fowey and Active. 

Governor Dunmore's pilot on the Chesapeake was 
Joseph Whayland, Jr., of Dorchester County, Mary- 
land, who in July, 1776, had command of three tenders 
at Smyth's Island. On or about the 15th, being in a 
creek making out of Holland Straits on a small 
schooner with three men, he was seized by a detach- 
ment of Colonel William C. Traverse's Corps from 
Hooper Straits under Major Daniel Fallen, and on 
August 3 the Maryland Committee of Safety sent 
him to prison until their next convention. Subse- 
quently he was committed, September 12, to the log 
jail in Frederick County, to be confined until he should 
make restitution to a party named White whose sloop 
he had caused to be destroyed, and was ordered to 
give such security to the Council of Safety as they 
should judge necessary for his future good behavior. 
From the jail at Annapolis he petitioned the conven- 
tion, October 28, being naked and without money, 
for clothing lost at the time of his capture, and Major 
Fallen was directed to deliver over all of said clothing 
then in his possession. 

Whether Whayland was released or escaped from 
confinement does not appear, but he eventually made 
his way to New York, where Admiral Arbuthnot en- 
couraged privateering, and probably commenced his 
marauding when the admiral lay in Lynnhaven Bay. 

[■34] 



Intelligence from Baltimore, August 21, 178 1, states 
that several picaroons from New York infesting the 
Chesapeake Bay had lately taken some small vessels 
near the mouth of the Potomac. The following spring 
five of these small privateers were reported to be armed 
barges or gunboats, and about May, 1782, some of 
them attacked and took an armed boat from Annapolis 
near Tangier Island; It was a severe fight and the com- 
mander, Captain Grayson, and several of his men were 
slain. An Alexandria letter of July 12 says that the 
Salem brig Ranger, eight guns and twenty men, which 
had sailed the week before for the West Indies, was 
attacked by two barges on the night of the 5th, 
between 12 and i P.M., while lying off St. Marys near 
the mouth of the Potomac. They were commanded by 
the noted Whayland and one Barry, and after a severe 
fight of an hour and a half Captain T. Simmons, of the 
Ranger, drove them off with pikes, it being too close to 
use his guns. Whayland himself was wounded and one 
of his men, a negro, was taken prisoner, while Barry and 
twenty-four men were killed and burled near by on St. 
George Island. Captain Simmons lost one man, and 
he and his first mate being wounded, they returned to 
Annapolis. Later the Ranger, Captain Perkins, sailed 
for Havana and finally reached Salem, Massachusetts, 
on December 18, 1782. 

Just after this last event, that is, on July 8, the 
schooner Greyhound, "a beautiful boat," laden with 
salt, peas, pork, bacon, and dry-goods, belonging to 
Furnival and Gerock, of Baltimore, was taken In 
Hooper Straits "by that notorious renegade-pirate 
Joe Whaland," whose lieutenant, TImmons, had re- 
cently executed two brothers on the eastern shore. 
Mr. Furnival, who was on board the Greyhound, the 
skipper, and all the hands were detained for twenty- 
four hours on the barge, and after being plundered and 
robbed of everything, were set on shore at a place called 

: '35 1 



Dan (or Dames) Quarter, near Devil's Isle, which at 
the time harbored a number of desperate adventurers. 
While on shore and before being released, they saw 
"several other bay craft fall into the fangs of the same 
vultures." The prize was sent up to New York. 

Later on the Lady Washington schooner, with flour 
from Baltimore to Havana, was taken in the bay "by 
an armed British galley called the Revenge, commanded 
by a certain Joseph Whayland." Retaken at sea, the 
prize was sent into Philadelphia in August and the case 
was tried before a Court of Admiralty at the State 
House on September 17. 

Saturday, November 30, three refugee barges from 
New York attacked the Maryland State galley Pro- 
tector, which was taken after its commander. Captain 
Whalley, was killed and sixty-five out of his seventy-five 
men either slain or wounded. This was said to be the 
most bloody conflict during the war, and is mentioned 
in Rivington's New York Gazette of December 28. 

Early in March, 1783, seven or eight armed barges, 
manned principally by white and black refugees, were 
cruising in the bay in quest of plunder and had taken 
some small craft. A party of these desperadoes had 
landed from the notorious Joe Whayland's barge and 
burned the dwelling-house and buildings of Mr. Benja- 
min Mackall on the Patuxent, in Calvert County, 
Maryland; the loss was estimated at £3000. After 
this exploit Whayland was reported as having been "in 
chase of his own father who has arrived here (Phila- 
delphia) and thinks himself fortunate in having escaped 
the horrid fangs of his graceless, renegade son." 

Both Gaines and Rivington mention two prize 
schooners of the Victory privateer, Captain Whayland 
(or Wallen) , which had arrived in New York from the 
Chesapeake on Sunday, March 30, 1783. What was 
the ultimate fate of this noted refugee I fail to learn; 
probably, judging from the following information, a 



short shrift and a long rope. A Baltimore letter of 
August 24, 1784, states that he was still the terror of 
the Chesapeake, committing dally depredations on the 
coasting vessels and murdering or plundering their 
crews. "We are Informed," says a letter of the times," 
"that the vessel that Whayland employs for the above 
Infamous purpose Is a topsail schooner with black sides 
and bottom, full of men, and draws but three and a half 
feet water. He has also several boats well armed, 
so that It Is dangerous for any vessels to go within sight 
of him. How long this fellow may reign Is uncertain, 
as there Is no armed vessel here to go In quest of him." 

Note 39, Page 84 

With the sloop-of-war Otter, her two tenders, and 
her several small prizes at the mouth of the Patapsco 
River, it was resolved by the Baltimore Committee 
on Friday, March 8, 1776, that the trading schooner 
Resolution, Captain William Wand, belonging to the 
firm of Lux and Bowley, should "in the present emer- 
gency" be fitted out as a tender for the State ship De- 
fence, Captain James Nicholson. She was to carry 
eight or ten 3-pounders and a crew of seventy men, and 
it was thought she could be got ready by Sunday morn- 
ing. Her services were not required on this occasion, 
however, as on the 9th the Otter made sail down the 
bay and Nicholson returned up the river with some of 
the prizes which had been abandoned. The names of 
several sailing captains had been proposed as officers 
for the tender when, on April 26, the Committee of 
Safety directed Captain Nicholson to officer the 
schooner, which then had a crew of forty men, out of 
his own ship. Afterward, September 12, the commit- 
tee was empowered by the State Convention to sell the 
Resolution, but some three weeks later they were 

14 Nftf Jersey Gazette, September 13, 1784. 

[137] 



directed to fit out, load, and send her on a voyage at 
the expense and risk of the State. Accordingly the 
schooner sailed for Martinique about December 9, 
1776, with a cargo of tobacco, flour, and breadstuffs, 
and with Captain John Carey in command. 

Note 40, Page 86 

The Santa Margaretta, a Spanish 44-gun prize cap- 
tured off Lisbon in 1779 by the Tartar, Captain Fairfax, 
was taken into commission and fitted out at Sheerness, 
and the command given to Captain Elliot Salter early 
in 1 78 1. She carried thirty-two guns and 220 men. 
During the summer she sent some prizes into Cork, and 
sailing thence with a convoy of forty-two sail, reached 
New York October 7. She was in the rear division of 
the fleet which left the latter port on October 19 for the 
relief of General Cornwallis, and returning to New 
York she continued to cruise from that quarter during 
the following year (1782). On August i she returned 
to the harbor chased by six French men-of-war, one of 
them an 84-gun ship; a few days before, after a long 
close engagement off Cape Henlopen, she had taken the 
frigate UAmazone, thirty-six guns, 300 men, but was 
obliged to abandon her prize, though some of the crew 
were brought in. On October 13 other prizes were sent 
in, one of them the Salem privateer Hendrick, captured 
September 29 off Bermuda. On her return from her last 
cruise during the war she left Port Royal Harbor, 
Jamaica, March 26, 1783, and arrived at New York 
April 14. 

Note 41, Page 86 

Henry Nicholls commanded in the West Indies the 
197-ton cutter Barracouta, fourteen guns, twelve swiv- 
els, sixty men, which was bought in 1782 and paid off 
in March, 1783. Toward the close of the year he was 
in command of the 14-gun cutter Echo, in the New- 
foundland Squadron of Vice-Admiral John Campbell. 

:'38 3 



% 



Commissioned a captain December i, 1788, he com- 
manded in 1 79 1 the Formidable, ninety-eight guns, 
flag-ship of the Hon. J. L. Gower, rear-admiral of the 
White, and in the Royal Sovereign, no guns, the 
flag-ship of Thomas Graves, Esq., admiral of the Blue, 
he was in the fight of June i , 1 794, off Ushant, and was 
subsequently presented with a gold medal. 

Note 42, Page 88 

The author of the memoir, having returned to his 
Boston home in the spring of 1783, sailed throughout 
the summer as mate of a brig bound for Ocoa on the 
south coast of Santo Domingo. As he did not like the 
captain, a Frenchman, he remained for a time 
on the island and returned during the winter 
on a small schooner. After working for a 
few weeks for his father, a young friend, Mr. 
Samuel Richards (who had served an apprentice- 
ship in Edward Tuckerman's bakery and was selling 
knickknacks, gingerbread, etc., in the town), proposed 
that if he should buy a small fishing schooner and load 
her with a cargo of Yankee notions. Greenwood might 
navigate her down to Baltimore. This scheme was car- 
ried out. At Baltimore his former employers wanted 
him to take the command of a new brig for the island 
of Madeira, but at the earnest entreaty of Richards he 
declined the offer and helped his friend barter off his 
precious freight. On the return trip, as the owner de- 
clined to pay the expense of a pilot. Greenwood brought 
the vessel safely through the Vineyard Sound on a 
stormy night and made a temporary harbor near Cape 
Cod. He made three more trading trips for Mr. Rich- 
ards, when the latter sold the schooner and began im- 
porting hardware from England. ^^ 

^■'' He died, a rich man, at Dedham, in August, 1844, aged eighty- 
seven. 

1:139] 



It came about that with business in a state of stagna- 
tion after the war, Greenwood, by this time a thorough- 
bred seaman, could no longer find employment, and so, 
after again working for a time in his father's shop at 
the turning business, he set out for New York. He 
traveled, as he says, with a light heart; in his pocket 
eight dollars which he had saved up, and in his kit, with 
some tools, a few fifes, drumsticks, lemon squeezers, 
and hum-tops. At No. 24 Old Slip he found his elder 
brother, Isaac Greenwood, occupying a room in Mr. 
Robertson's house and there pursuing his father's pro- 
fession. He himself procured board and lodging at 
twenty shillings a week with a Mr. Lewis Harrington, 
at No. 199 Water Street, on the northeasterly corner 
of Wall Street, in a house belonging to Mr. Archibald 
Kennedy. Plis eight dollars he lent to a friend to keep 
him from jail, and then tried, unsuccessfully however, 
to get to sea again. Finally he hired half a shop in the 
same building in which he boarded from a Mr, J. 
Quincy, instrument maker, and helped that gentleman 
to rub up and repair old quadrants and compasses. 
He also made some hickory walking-sticks, and these, 
as the streets were dangerous after nightfall, found a 
temporary sale. Altogether he earned just about 
enough to pay his expenses, but had to debar himself, 
he says, of a pint of beer when the day's labor was over. 

After a while, however, he bought out the business 
of Mr. Quincy, who returned to Boston or Salem, and 
as his brother Isaac^'' had by this time left New York 
and located himself in Providence, Rhode Island, John 
Greenwood, at the instance of his friend Dr. John 
Gamage, also took up the profession of his father in 
Boston, and carried it on in connection with his business 
of a turner and mathematical instrument maker. He 
succeeded so well that he soon had to send for his two 

1^ He returned to the city in 1810, after the death of his brother 
Clark Greenwood. 



younger brothers, Clark and William P. Greenwood, 
to help him. 

At the time of his decease, in November, 1819, Dr. 
John Greenwood's remains were laid in the family vault 
of the old Brick Church, corner of Beekman Street and 
Chatham (Park) Row. They were removed later 
on to the vault in the Marble Cemetery, and are now 
at rest in Greenwood Cemetery. 



C«4I] 



Appendix A, Page 13 

Two regiments of minute-men were organized in 
Berkshire County, Massachusetts, prior to the outbreak 
of the American Revolution. Colonel John Patterson 
commanded the regiment raised in the northern and 
central parts of the county, with Jeremiah Cady, of 
Gageborough (afterward Windsor), as major. Pat- 
terson reached Cambridge before May 14, 1775, with 
five companies commanded by Captains Samuel Sloan, 
Nathan Watkins, Charles Dibble, David Noble, and 
Thomas Williams. Captain Noble, of Pittsfield, when 
his company enlisted for eight months, is said to have 
sold his farm lands, armed his men, and put them into 
a uniform of blue coats faced with white, and buckskin 
breeches. A young doctor, Timothy Childs, was lieu- 
tenant in this company; on July 5 he was appointed 
surgeon of the regiment and resigned in 1777. 



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On June 17, the day of the Bunker Hill fight, the 
company of Captain Theodore T. Bliss was joined to 
Colonel Patterson's regiment, and on the 26th the 
Massachusetts Provincial Congress ordered the com- 
panies, if they were about full, of Captain John McKin- 

stry, of Spencer, New York, and Captain Porter, 

of Becket, to join; this order, however, was not carried 
out by Porter. Captain Goodrich's company was com- 
posed mostly of Stockbridge Indians, who were sent 
home during the summer by General Washington, and 
in September the captain joined Arnold's expedition to 
Quebec. Lieutenant Pixly subsequently attained to the 
rank of colonel and settled on Campbell's Location, 
west of Owego, In the Essex Gazette, August 17-24, 
1775, Lemuel Allen, of Ashford, Connecticut, wearing 
"a blue coat with buff colour'd Cuffs and Lapels," is 
advertised as a deserter from Captain William Good- 
rich's company, in Colonel Patterson's regiment, 
Charlestown Camp. 

Captain John McKinstry, Jr., was born at London- 
derry, New Hampshire, in 1745, the son of John 
McKinstry, a native of Armagh, Ireland, said to have 
been a captain In the British army. The son served 
in the French and Indian wars, married Elizabeth 
Knox, of Rumford (or Concord) , and settled in Noble- 
town, ^ a tract some five miles square in the southerly 
part of Hillsdale Township (Columbia County, New 
York), a section which later on came west of the divid- 
ing line between the States of Massachusetts and New 
York. Captain (subsequently Colonel) McKinstry 
died at Livingston, New York, in 1822; his son George 
died In 1866, aged ninety-four years, the father of 
Augustus McKinstry, of Hudson, New York, and of 
Commodore James Paterson McKinstry, U.S.N. , who 
died in February, 1873, aged sixty-six years. 

^ In the northern part of Hillsdale was a similar tract called 
Spencertown. 

i:h4 3 



In the "Massachusetts Revolutionary Rolls," Vol. 
LVI, pp. 172-1773^, we have a return, dated October 
6, 1775, "of the names and places of residence of all 
the Commissioned, non-Commissioned Officers and Sol- 
diers which have enlisted in the 26th Regiment of Foot 
now in the Continental Service." 



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Captain Wyman's company had fifty-one rank and 
file, the majority from Uxbridge; there were five ser- 
geants, four corporals, two drums, and two fifes; a 
private, John McGrath, "residence unknown," wounded 
June 17, died September 20, 1775, was the only cas- 
ualty in the regiment on the day of the Bunker Hill 
fight. In Captain Morse's company a number of the 
men were from Natick; one private, James Greenwood, 
was from Framingham. Most of the men in Captain 
Dibble's company were from Lenox. Captain Noble's 
men were from Pittsfield and Richmont; the captain 
died at Crown Point in July, 1776. The regiment 
numbered, during the summer of 1775, over 600^ rank 
and file, counting the Indians, etc., under Captain 
Goodrich. 

An advertisement of September 21, 1775, in the 
Essex Gazette, notes the desertion of William Merry, 
of Biddeford, in Saco, a private in "Captain Theodore 
Bliss's company, in Colonel Patterson's regiment, in 
Charlestown Camp," wearing a fustian coat, striped 
gingham waistcoat, and a pair of velvet breeches. 

^ Of this number over thirty were on command, after Septem- 
ber, in Quebec, nine were in the train, eight had been discharged, 
seven had deserted and one returned, and five had died. 



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Thomas Walker's house (1903l in Montreal, 

where Dr. Franklin, Carroll and Chase lodped 

in May, 1 7 7 S . 



Appendix B, Page 97 

Colonel Thomas Walker^ (uncle of John Green- 
wood) left Canada during the winter of 1775-6 in 
order to prefer certain charges against General Rich- 
ard Prescott of the British army, then a prisoner of 
war; he hoped also to obtain from Congress some in- 
demnity for the loss of his farm-house and potash fac- 
tory at L'Assomption. Brigadier-General Wooster's 
note for $400, loaned him by Walker "for the use of 
the Army," was taken up March 23, 1776, and paid in 
specie, and on the 28th his Memorial was presented and 
ordered to lie on the table. His grievances are amply 
set forth in a deposition, sworn to in Philadelphia on 
April 24. (Force's "American Archives," Series 4, 
Vol. IV, col. 1 175-9.) 

Mrs. Thomas Walker and Mrs. James Price set out 
from Montreal for Philadelphia May 11, 1776, under 
the escort of Dr. Benjamin Franklin, one of the three 
commissioners who had been appointed by Congress for 
visiting Canada and who had been lodged in Walker's 
house. "En route" between Albany and New York, to 
insure the comfort of the ladies, the doctor accepted the 
offer of General Schuyler's chariot. Colonel Walker 
and his wife lived subsequently in Boston while their 
children remained in Canada, though Judge James 
Walker visited his Yankee cousins before the close of 
the century. 

The Massachusetts House of Representatives, April 
27, 1777, chose Colonel Thomas Walker and Colonel 
Solomon Lovell to serve on the committee of Fortifica- 
tions, in which choice the Council concurred. Some 
years later, in a letter of December 8, 1784, Walker's 
case was strongly recommended by Samuel Adams to 

^ Chief Justice William Hay says Walker was an Englishman by 
birth. There was another Thomas Walker who died in Montreal 
August 29, 1768, and was buried on the 30th. 



Richard H. Lee, President of the Congress at Trenton. 
At the time of the colonel's death, which took place 
July 8, 1788, aged seventy years, a well-deserved trib- 
ute to his character and services appeared in the Massa- 
chusetts Centinel (Vol. IX, No. 34). His widow, to- 
gether with Paul D. and Daniel Sargent, gave bonds 
on his (intestate) estate. 

The widow, Martha Walker, under Acts of Con- 
gress passed April 7, 1798, and February 18, 1801, for 
the relief of the refugees from Canada and Nova Sco- 
tia during the Revolutionary War, became entitled to 
a grant for 2240 acres of land. She removed ulti- 
mately to Quebec and, living there with her daughter, 
Mrs. Jane Cox, and the Woolseys, died about 1825, 
aged over ninety years. Her portrait was in the pos- 
session of her grandson, Captain Edward Cox, of King- 
sey, Canada, when he wrote me in 186 1. A letter to 
Mr. John Greenwood, of New York, dated Dedham, 
Massachusetts, April, 18 16, is preserved, in which his 
only sister, Mrs. Mary Gay, says: "If you go to Can- 
ada in July, pray enquire if Madam (Martha) Walker 
is still alive; she is Mother's sister; her son was Judge 
(James) Walker of Montreal, — he is dead. Uncle 
(Robert) Woolsey lives in Quebeck." 

The Petition for a General Assembly from the Prov- 
ince of Quebec to the King was signed in January, 1774, 
by Zach. Macauly, head of the Quebec Committee; 
Thomas Walker, head of the Montreal Committee; 
Robert Woolsey, Richard Walker, James Price, 
Thomas Walker, Jr., and others. 

CHILDREN 

I. Thomas Walker, born circa 1751; petitions, 
Quebec, November 2, 1779, for license to practise law 
In any of the Courts of Record in the province; peti- 
tions, Montreal, June 12, 1780, for a commission of 



attorney-at-law. When in the fall of 1787 Inquiry was 
made, before the chief justice, into the conduct of the 
judges of the Court of Common Pleas both at Quebec 
and Montreal, the brothers Thomas and James Walker 
were among those examined. He married, first, a 
widow whose maiden name was Sayres; secondly, in 
November, 1782, at Montreal, Jane Finlay, probably a 
daughter of Hugh Finlay, the postmaster-general. His 
only daughter, Louisa Nash Walker, died, single, in 
1854. 

2. James Walker, born 1756; appointed in 1794 a 
judge of the King's Bench, district of Montreal. He 
applied for a grant of land in 1793, and afterward pur- 
chased the seigniory of St. Charles on the Chambly. 
He was twice married, the second time in April, 1782, 
to Margaret Hughes, daughter of Town Major James 
Hughes, who died September 11, 1785, aged eighty- 
seven years. James Walker died in Montreal, January 
31, 1800, aged forty-four years, and was interred in the 
old Dorchester Street English burying-ground. His 
widow, on petition, received an annual pension of £120. 
He left three daughters : 

i. Julian Walker, born May 13, baptized May 15, 
1785, in Montreal; married, June, 1806, James Suther- 
land; married, second, December, 181 1, Jean M. Mon- 
delet, notary and member of Parliament, who died in 
1840. 

ii. Amelia Anne Walker, born 1787; married Cap- 
tain Samuel Romilly, of the Royal Engineers; died 
June, 1824, and was buried near her father. 

iii. Caroline Walker; married Lieutenant Thomas 
Marshall Harris, of the Royal Staff Corps, etc., son of 
Major-General John Harris, R.A. 

3. Alexander Walker; captain in the 7th Royal 
Fusiliers, March 3, 1780; aide-de-camp in Canada to 
Prince Edward, afterward the Duke of Kent, colonel 
of the regiment; resigned about 1792 and next year 

C1533 



applied for a grant of land in Maddington and Hunters- 
town; died unmarried. 

4. Anne Walker; brought up her orphan niece, 
Louisa N. Walker; died, single, in England, 1835. 

5. Jane Walker, born 1764 or 1767; educated in 
England; returning during the war, the vessel was 
brought, a prize, into Boston; she married, 1784, at 
Quebec, Lieutenant (later Lieutenant-Colonel) Wil- 
liam Cox, R.A., who died about 18 10; she died in Eng- 
land about 1848, aged eighty-four years. Lieutenant 
W. Cox is called by General Haldimand, "son of the 
Governor of Gaspe," who was Captain Nicholas Cox, 
in 1753 of the 47th Foot, and, ten years later. Equerry 
of the Duke of Gloucester; he died, January 8, 1793, 
lieutenant-governor of Gaspe, and his widow, a Miss 
Wickham, of Newport, Rhode Island, received an an- 
nual pension of £100. Governor N. Cox was a grand- 
son of Sir Richard Cox, knighted November 5, 1692, 
and afterward Baronet Cox of Dummanway and Lord 
High Chancellor of Ireland, 1703-7. Jane Walker 
left three children: 

i. Frances Cox; married, first, Lieutenant-Colonel 
Hubert de Burgh, of the Bengal Cavalry; second, in 
1835, Sir Frederick de Abbott, Knight, of the Bengal 
Engineers, knighted 1854, and living 1869, aged sixty- 
one years, a retired major-general of the East Indian 
Service, at Broom Hall, Shooter's Hill, Kent, England. 

ii. Cox; married Lieutenant-Colonel Peter J. 

Willats of the 48th Foot. 

iii. Edward Cox; entered army in 1804 as an en- 
sign; retired about 1824, when captain in the 6th Foot 
(or I St Warwickshire Regiment) ; was living, 1861, at 
Kingsey on the St. Francis River, some sixty-five miles 
north of east from Montreal. In December, 1909, two 

ladies, Miss Cox and her sister, Mrs. Ada Austin, 

widow, were living in Montreal at No. 400 Sherbrooke 
Street, the last of Captain Cox's family. Mrs. Austin 

C'543 



had a miniature portrait of her great-grandmother, 
Mrs. Martha (Fans) Walker, and at that time por- 
traits of Colonel Thomas Walker and his wife were 
in the Museum of the Chateau Ramezay, Notre Dame 
Street, Montreal. 



C'ss: 



4\ 



